water on the heath

On the flowering heath
an unexpected fen.

Flocks of waterlilies drift in silence,
living myth

      while

the spaces in between mirror
the trees hiding/lining the waters.

A dragonfly races across, hunting understanding.

Frogs cause ripples on the surface,
they know what it means to them, the fen.

The silence breathes
for me to step out into the moment –

temple of time
well spent