I think it is the beginning of things
to find the sky dabbled clouds at your feet
or see the murmurations of ten thousand birds,
waves aloft upon the surface of a pond.
It is a mystery in brilliant speckled blue,
to glisten at your toes in tickling giggling ripples
or carry your smooth stone skipping four times
out upon the still water.
This is the place to find the unknown known,
to listen to the sky or see these many thousand birds sing
with sweeping wing or taste the sun’s bright ether
glistening radiant upon your tongue.
We are suspended quivering, taut on the surface tension
of the world, this delicate oscillation of what is seen,
until the gravity of what is transcends our very dreams
tossed full wondering expectant upon the living water.