Thursday, July 30, 2015

Holy Water, Watering Me

I want some external signal
   a blaring light, but
I'd settle for seal eyes peering from
a wet head popping up
starboard, or a black and white dorsel fin
cutting the surface before my
bow, or a flailsome tail breaching behind me,
or an otter floating on her
back cracking shell fish - all unconcerned
and undisturbed by me
paddling by. But,
the one my soul loves resides
inside. I have no need for
external reassurances
after all. The water dripping
off the tip of my paddle is enough
to wet me through. And the salty
tears, too.