Past the Waterline

--Adele Kenny

(After Lake with Dead Trees by Thomas Cole)

This could be any day, anywhere—either one of us could be the other, momentary deer where the water ends and the forest begins. Whatever hard things we’ve seen—what we’ve fallen under—remind us of the way wind strips the pines, how dark gathers, how it thins the light. Dead limbs rest on stretched water, above and within their own reflections. Memory re-collects itself beyond the surface. We listen and, listening, hear the voice inside that never lies—a loneliness that becomes its own spirit. Past the waterline and the tree line, we move between all lines to a pause that is neither time nor now—the purest here as our minds pass through it.

[via ragazine]