The waters of the lake are calm this morning.
A few feet away gentle ripples fade
into the obscurity of the mist.
Grayness occludes my vision.
And for what feels like the first time,
the inability to see what lies ahead
does not birth angst.
A serenity descends upon me
and envelops me
as the cloud descends from the heavens
and lies upon the lake.
I cannot see all the details,
I can only see what I need
for my next step
or two
or three.
Gazing into the fog,
I see a lone figure silhouetted
against the monochromatic grayscape.
A loon is floating,
amidst the gentle ripples.
Alone,
like me.
I rise to look at her.
Beginning to bathe herself,
the loon rises to reveal
the pure white of her underbelly,
even as I rise
to reveal the pureness of my true self,
to allow my hidden heart
to be illuminated by the
gentlest glow of soft morning sun
through the cradling cloud.
Tears fill my eyes
as I watch her spread her wings
and lift her body from the waters.
Her beauty steals my next breath
as she stands upon the waters.
In a single heartbeat,
love connects us.
Her morning ritual
of revealing herself for cleansing completed,
she rises again,
and prepares to move on.
Her wings weighed down with water,
she relentlessly reaches out
toward all that lies beyond her.
Flapping to force herself aloft,
she travels just above the surface
until she can recapture
her own innate ability
to again take flight.
And I am left alone,
in my morning ritual
by the water’s edge.
Enveloped by the mist,
cradled by the cloud,
illuminated by the gentlest glow of the morning sun,
I await the next beauty to befall my eyes.
I wonder if I might
cast off the water weighing upon my wings,
and reach out relentlessly
toward all that lies beyond me,
to force myself aloft,
and travel just above the surface
until I can recapture
my own innate ability to
again take flight.
