Merging waters

I sit,

nestled in the gnarled roots

of the proud leguminous tree,

towering high

just to taste

the small drops of sunlight

upon their canopy.

The waters rush,

liquid locks of the Queen,

streaming down rocks

yet there is no hurry

to meet my bare feet

in the still pool below.

Even in all of her vigor

she coaxes me to slow down

Breathe, child

you have nowhere to be

but here.

And I remember,

even for just a fleeting moment,

the infinite spaciousness

of pure presence.

So beautiful

that she sheds a tear,

hundreds,

cascading cold diamonds

upon my warm cheeks.

I can’t discern the difference

between my water and hers,

meeting me

in the estuary of my flesh

where the river

meets the sea.