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The Lake Sings to the Sleepless Child
By Andrew Hudgins

Come walk
where no one walks. Come dance
across the lilies while quick fish nudge
the bottoms of your feet.
Come quickly.
You're light,
my darling—buoyant, nothing—
and in my hands I've held a rowboat,
a rowboat holding
mother, father, you—
all in my hands, light
as the mist
that rises from me in the blue moonlight,
and wafts
through dark pines to your window
whispering,
Come, daughter, come
and soar into the world beneath your feet,
where swift
fish slide between your fingers.
You too will swoop like the swallow here,
or dart and
hover like the dragonfly.
You love your blue and yellow light
but deeper down, the green
light gleams
above you like an emerald sun,
and deeper yet
the plush black glow
reveals all living things are one,
and you'll be that one thing, my lovely,
as you fly deeper,
deeper down,
swooping and soaring slowly
on the current's
unfurling breeze. Come, lean your light
foot
on the lily, and rise forever
on the dark unhurried waters of descending.

Andrew Hudgins
Ecstatic in the Poison
The Overlook Press

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