Across the Water

August 9, 1982

I do not hear your voice at all. Call across the water in bright-hot summer - I may sail brave through waves of gold-sparked water leaping to touch my small vessel, making splashing sounds that resonate far below where the water sleeps leaving the surface undisturbed. Call my name - I may sail to you knowing I travel safe above a secret place that rests when all the world flames and is alive with light. And if I still do not hear, call again when summer mellows to filter sound through sound and find softer light deep in water that stirs not at all.