Stone Mother by Jenny McFarlane
with untiring eyes
feels the Sun rise behind her,
warming her neck.
A ray of Light touches the water,
but its fingers do not stir the basin.
The Earth is quiet and sleepy,
reluctant to wake.
Stone Mother watches, but does not say a word.
Pelican skims and dips, flapping lazily over the mirror to see
if breakfast will come to him.
Teasing Trout rises to catch a gnat, then flips a fin.
Ripples circle ever outward,
unbroken by wind or wave,
for all is still and waiting.
Young Man slips his ship into calm waters,
breathing deeply, smelling sage,
smiling at the Sun as it warms his cheeks.
Gliding noiselessly across the waters,
he searches for the center,
then, raising his oar out of the water,
watches the pearls roll off the plank and plunk into the pool.
He lifts his eyes to the hills and the skies
Rogue Wave, rebellious son,
Strikes without warning
At the younger brother.
Malice spent, he flees and melts into glass,
Leaving boat to drift without pilot.
Stone Mother sits, and sighs,
As the Child is taken to the arms of his Father.
In memory of James Franks who never returned from a solo boating trip at Pyramid Lake February 1, 2003