Back Pond

This one took a long time to come and might not be finished. There is a pond at the end of a bay on our lake you can only reach if you find the opening in what looks like a marshy end, but isn’t.

Here in the back pond

Hidden from the lake

Can you hear the quiet

It’s not

Can you feel the stillness

It’s not

Still quiet

Time, with the water

Slowed, calmed, stopped

As you drift through the channel

A guantlet of grasses

Wild rice waving,

Reeds prancing

To an unheard waltz

Quietness there

If you listened

Dragonflies, frogs,

Insects thrumming

Creaking trees

A choir of

Unseen birds

Beauty was there

If you looked

Small flowers

Hints of colours

Wild in the edges

Tiny berries

Almost floating

Delicate brushstrokes

Textures,

shading,

Shadowed rocks

Lilies floating

Diamond water sparkling

Reflecting, reflecting

Above the cedar ribs below

Held in soft sediment, sand

Wispy clouds forming

In the rounded sky

A story was there

Waiting to be told

Ready, patient

To include you

If you let it

You could enter the script

Surrender to the calm

Be still and know

Peace for a moment

Rippling away

To the waiting shore.