vatn // lake
by Robert Fanning
Even on mountains, you measure your ascent by how far you rise from
me. What are you running from, riverveined one, drawn by sea and sky.
Why this fear of being bound by one body temporarily. Do you believe
you wear only one face? Watch me mirror passing clouds, double rising
moons, let windlashed rain ravage me. What’s to fear in settling the matter.
In being anywhere a moment. Smallsea, riverhaven. I am source, yet still you
can’t catch my drift, don’t see me lifting into air, spilling toward the coast.
Listen. There’s nothing untoward in becoming. In just being who you are.