Low Like Water

Patched sunlight toys
with lichen dotted rocks,
like your smile,
sudden, joyous,
breaking through
the storms of your seasons,
holocaust of your summers,
with graceful kindness you fall,
winter sharp, bitter, cold,
sweet promise of spring in your eyes
that never is fulfilled.

I'm not like dapled sunlight at all.
Dark crystal cold of water
sunk low & humble, a strength not
proud like stone, rising high,
defiant, blocking bliss like
some seldom seen king's sentinel.

I curve to one side, suddenly
slide by spraying a mist
of quiet laughter on my way.