Talking Water

When my breath is stale, cold and dry 
rasping hard against my ribs
When my heartbeat thuds a hollow tone
upon a crackled skin
When the tender flesh upon my fingertips
feel neither heat nor cold
My feet no longer tread
the dampened earth
                                                             My dreams begin to wander
                                                             my ears seek out
                                                             the singing voice
                                                             of the Talking Water

foaming, splashing, dancing
over, under, around
darkened, rounded
boulders and stones
a fast moving river rushing
down the mountain
      
                                                              A voice in my dream
                                                              draws me ever closer
                                                              my feet and ankles 
                                                              suddenly damp, cold
                                                              my knees and thighs
                                                              chilled, wet

I fall  upon the language of the Talking Water
She feeds me once again
like so many years ago
when I walked her shores and stones.

                                                              I seek her now only in dreams
                                                              I am fed all the same
                                                              I breathe anew
                                                              My heart beats afresh 
                                                              Fingers grasp life once more
                                                              Feet again tread a steady path

I walk with the 
Talking Water. 

mec 
08182012