I am so lucky. For the past 13 summers (and some winters)
I have lived in a cottage on this small lake in western Massachusetts. I love every manner of flotation and immersion in its clean water. Yesterday, I took my first swim of the season.
While out there—stroking, diving, gliding—I remembered this poem from my new book, Almost Entirely, which will be out
in November (Paraclete Press). Happy summer, everyone!
Our Lake Is Heart-Shaped
Our lake is heart-shaped and pulsing with lilies, wings and frogs.
When deep into big weather, it froths and tumbles the shoreline rocks,
all the fine tree roots exposed.
Our lake is a teardrop filling from deep springs.
While resting on its surface with sail or paddle,
I am brought beyond my landedness.
Not until diving under can I know its pillowed, dull-moss light: a soft
birthplace of souls where a body is seen at last for what it is:
awash in the eye of God.