You watch the water as you prepare your boat
Sensing its mood as you would a wild creature
You slide carefully as it slumbers beneath you.
For you have learned to be one with the beast.
Rising sun strikes the surface and wakes it from its slumber.
It stirs and stretches and sends small riffles and swells across its length
It is full – sated – swollen with the pull of the moon.
Too full to move, it settles back down to snooze.
With a shift and turn, the setting moon
Sends crawling tendrils over the beast.
A twist, a shake, and its skin crumples and wrinkles as if to scratch against the sky
To break away, it thrashes, as it drains and thins.
A soft touch on the cheek, a movement in the trees
You can feel its pulse, its change of rhythm
As its heart keeps pace with the wind
Its breath quickens, the chest heaves, then shatters with excitement.
Beware the beast when it rages
When it loses its rhythmic pulsing
As it thrashes, tugs, pulls against its cage
Breaking, shattering, crashing to flow free.
It eats its cage, throws logs and drags rocks
Transforms to a merciless monster
Stand back and watch. Hear its strength.
Listen to it speak and call. Learn its voice when it cries.
The rage slips away into an uneasy quiet.
Seeking the peace of its former repose.
When calm, it speaks in soft whispers to the shores
Beckons you to climb on its belly and play.
Does it sleep?
Know how to tell when it wakes.
When it draws breath to shake off its covers and roam its bounds.
Feel its pulse, move as it breathes. Slide gently, and
Don’t wake the beast.
CeCe Aguda
5/29/2021