You can see life at work here. Every day.
Every hour. It never stops moving. Pulls itself
into itself. Waves into waves. If you stare into it,
you see more than stretching trees. More than
the sun’s glassy glaze. You see yourself.
Nature’s mirror, crafted from the ice age. The self
crashes into the self. Distorted. Broken.
Split. Reformed.

Rebirthed. Stitched back together
and pulled apart. Man and landscape
dissolves into a palette of color.
A dynamic painting of existence.
Skin and leaves shimmer against
one another. Veins connecting
to xylem. Boundaries crashing.
Man becomes tree. Sky becomes man.
Water becomes air. The wind is nature’s
paintbrush. Connection
through disconnection. Formation
through deformation. We

used to be glaciers. Giant statues
of ocean. Mother Nature
took a chisel and made an image
of herself. Ice became woman
became ocean became skin
became sun became son.
A thousand of them. They refract
into each other here. This body
of water. Waves into waves. Mother
into child. Distorted. Rebirthed.
Every mother is twice
born. Every wave is twice
formed. Everything is blended
in liquid form. If you listen

to the lake catching
the falling rain, you
can hear the quiet
whisper
my children. my children.

If you watch the thousand
tiny circles popping
on the surface, you can see
a child dipping
their toes in their mother’s
stomach,

before returning
to the womb.