-- THE DREAM OF THE LAKE –

John Herlihy

The dream of the lake, birthing,

Bubbling drops from a virgin spring,

Born in mountain depths where dew gathers,

Lapping wavelets with soft voice, like a mother’s,

Nestled in a valley among gentle hills, far from worry.

The dream of the lake, stirring,

Rising in the breaths of life found in wind,

A blackbird sang as dawn’s light fell on blown glass,

Mingling with dawn dew in the mirrored waters,

Casting mystical spells across the span of millennia.

The dream of the lake, existing

Time by the lake as other, with no future or past,

The moment of beginning still there in the present,

Mountains crumble, valleys level, the lake cool, wide, deep,

Lapping eternal in its own time and in its own place.

The dream of the lake, sounding,

The forlorn cry of the loon in nearby hills,

A great hunting owl scribing signatures in its wake,

Softly feathered wings, wise old-man face, silent,

No, the listening is not mistaken in feeling the notes.

The dreams of the lake, trembling,

The breath of the rising wind on her face,

The eye of the lake gleaming the deepest blue,

Its heart beating rhythms of the overhead sky,

Its smell as mysterious and fresh as falling rain.

The dream of the lake, darkening,

The stern face of the storm textured darkness,

Midnight shadows dim the luster of noon,

In the wake of the cloud assembly, a fierceness,

The lake’s silence interrupted by loud voices.

The dream of the lake, beaming,

The light glowed brightly like polished bronze,

The sun’s rays strike the water as burnished swords

The shield of reflected light a benefactor, a mentor,

Filling the mind with insight, the heart with light.

The dream of the lake, singing,

Melodies newly born as when the Spirit sings,

The wings of birds humming over the waters,

Rhythms spread the surface like an unfolding scroll,

Sending forth an ageless lullaby, soothing, uplifting.

The dream of the lake, promising,

Expressing tenderness as in that first cool kiss,

Lithe and full in its stillness, with no ebbing tide,

The pledge of its heart beats steady and sure,

Inside the lake flow currents deep into the unknown.

The dream of the lake, quieting,

The breath of the wind no longer on her face,

The face of the lake placid, reflecting heavenly sky,

Wavelets have stopped murmuring, as still as glass

The lake no meandering river that simply runs away.

The dream of the lake, resting,

Midnight finds the lake placid, at peace,

The firmament now illuminated in arches of starlight,

Shooting stars leave behind trails in the night sky,

Moonglow as a flowing river unfolded as smooth silk.

The beauty of the lake, dreaming,

The world reflected in its light and shadows,

Its song an aromatic scent, beckoning, calling

Offering a home, finding home, being at home,

There in the face and in the depths of the lake.

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Copyright © John Herlihy

Sunday 7 August 2022