Water

Falls fast or increases driving pulpits and plaints,

Vocabulary of my mind. Great mess of every word stops

Before sight of sea, rockpools filling, stream rivulets.

There are no words. Only colossal continuous movement

Over reefs across sand aisles below where I sit.

How we have changed in imagining tides rising

Now we stare at the news, polar melt no rainfall, in this

“most dangerous bushfire season in one hundred years.”

Saltwater courses around bases, rests in honeycomb rock

Millions of years old, both elements. Mind rests with its backward

And forwards, my words a foreground of distraction. No words.

Meditation includes walking down for a swim, sand soft

Underfoot. Water goes wherever it can and I stroll through it,

Warm for December but cool on the skin.