through the river weeds,
you see the curve of venus’ daughters.
the moon blesses them and only them,
and for this night only, you,
weary traveler, crosser of oceans,
may see the hair that falls
like water without course,
like love without reason,
like stories without an end.
feel the earth that shifts when they dance upon it
and carry that rhythm in your heart
so years later, before you sleep,
you may be haunted by
birds that awaken in song
and trees coming to bursting life.
there is nothing heavenly in bodies, no--
nothing otherworldly about a river's flow
over languid touches and moonlight glinting just so.
but on this strange night
you will see look out through the river weeds
and see water in a whole different light.