Cobden, in the morning

White Pine in the park

with her great seamed trunk

tells me

SLOW DOWN – BREATHE – SAVOUR

And so I descend to the water

closer to the pace of Nature

and pause to watch the wavelets

glinting in the morning sun

Bee gathers pollen

humming her rich contralto

In the water

Muskrat

the namesake of this lake

nose nudging air

spindly tail curving above the water

like a dark umbilical

tells me

PLAY

Mallard paddles

lonely iridescent boat

silent and green-bowed

Then the ghosts glide in

2 herons skimming

reflected lithe

on the mirrored surface

their shadows keeping pace

with wimple-like wings

And I am led to my father’s voice

who is Spirit now

reminding me I am beloved

and ever overseen

I ask the Lake, then

as I stand rapt

in my blanket of blessing and privilege

what of those who grieve

and bleed

from generations-old wounds

The Lake says

FLOW

FIND MORE LOVE

and let it sparkle from your surface

where Gaia’s children

can reach out

with their fingers of magick

to gather

abundant harvest