Surfaces
These placid waters conceal a truth. Surfaces can seem so glassy, smooth, mirror any dreams just drifting by, passing through. More…
These placid waters
conceal a truth.
Surfaces can seem
so glassy, smooth,
mirror any dreams
just drifting by,
passing through.
More and less
than what you see
or what you’d guess,
but pleasing, yes?
It’s not illusion.
More a secret, overheard,
a prayer received,
a luminous, listening moon.
One might say
a somewhat
bittersweet confusion,
if you will, a love
that waits to feel,
a heart that beats
so quietly, the current,
although moving
fools the naked eye,
presents as still,
suggests a way
to heal, a place
to come to rest.
The magic’s real
just not the spell
you think.
Go for a swim
or have a drink.
The clarifying sun
will know too well,
will rise too soon,
too soon.
Dan Stone is a novelist, poet, essayist, photographer, and educator pondering the mysteries of his own life in landlocked Tennessee while dreaming of the ocean and how soon he can live near it. Follow him on Facebook and on Instagram.