Waldo Lake
Along your winding shores,
the crystal waters lap at the toes
of great gray stones that rest secure,
holding the woods at bay.
Layers and layers of fir needles
carpet your mossy boundaries,
making each of my footfalls
echo in muffled thumps.
The leaning saplings
and the rotting stumps,
sit quietly near the bracken.
They gaze at your waters in wonder.
On this still autumn day
no waves splash and chatter.
Only a slow smooth ripple
travels on your surface.
Always you beckon,
Come walk with me.
Oh how you soon you forget
my human limitations!
You mistake me for my ancestor,
who gazed to the end of creation,
and walked with God
in the cool of the evening.
Do not taunt me autumn waters.
With reflected yellow maples
and rusty red leaves
that dance on your shoulders.
Oh, I am of these earthy elements,
that you have played with since your youth.
But a water skipper and I
are worlds apart.
You take advantage of me,
blue black in the afternoon sun.
For you know of my secret desire
to walk upon your surface.
You try to appease me
By pretending to gaze
upon the mares tails in the sky,
at summers melancholy end.
I am trapped here on the shore,
fiddling with floating leaves and sticks.
Watching them dance,
in their miniature harbors.
But wait you, oh mystic lake.
My golden day will come at last.
For I have made arrangements
with the One who formed you and me.
I will walk on your waters
And we will dance in your waves
For the Holy One has promised me
that this special gift will be mine.