Five days ago the ice watch began. The shift was beginning. I could feel it in my bones. The pond would be free soon...
Today the ice left, ironically, after a night in the single digits. Now my dreams begin. If I could be an mythological creature it would be a mermaid. Once the ice is gone my hunger begins. Swim, swim, swim whispers the water as it laps the shore. Soon I will dip a toe just to know. Last year I jumped in on April 16th! Jumped right out again. We'll see. In the meantime, I will dream of that first dive. Imagine the quiet as I swim under the water as far as my lungs will allow, feeling suspended and without gravity.
Went surfing today....for poetry...found this wonderful NEW poem...Enjoy!
National Poetry Month!!
ICE ON THE LAKE
I am the ice on the lake.
Every year I melt.
I slip away into nothingness.
I join the cosmos of the water.
You swim in me,
and I swim through you.
This is spring,
and it is only just the beginning.
Every year I melt.
I slip away into nothingness.
I join the cosmos of the water.
You swim in me,
and I swim through you.
This is spring,
and it is only just the beginning.
Time will pass,
and eventually I will begin to cling
to my own edges.
Thin, and easily breakable.
The slightest ripple rips me apart.
But, my pieces are wind chimes,
born on water and not wind.
and eventually I will begin to cling
to my own edges.
Thin, and easily breakable.
The slightest ripple rips me apart.
But, my pieces are wind chimes,
born on water and not wind.
I’ll grow stronger,
as the air grown colder.
And, in the deep winter
I’ll become solid.
Refined,
polished,
by blowing wind and snow.
as the air grown colder.
And, in the deep winter
I’ll become solid.
Refined,
polished,
by blowing wind and snow.
Until,
crack!
I will pile up on top of myself.
I will line the shores with my sharp corners.
Pushing up sand and shells,
the wind howls through me,
through my hollow spaces.
crack!
I will pile up on top of myself.
I will line the shores with my sharp corners.
Pushing up sand and shells,
the wind howls through me,
through my hollow spaces.
Again, I’ll start to melt.
To slip away into nothingness.
But, this is spring,
and it is only just the beginning.
To slip away into nothingness.
But, this is spring,
and it is only just the beginning.
Shannon Lepine 2013
http://lepinepoetry.wordpress.com/2013/02/14/ice-on-the-lake/
