a sample of my "voice"

arrived

her small red rowboat drifts
further from the shore
at rest upon the quiet waters

that do not appear to her
to be water
but solid land moist and grassy

water flows deep beneath the surface
and she hears its breathing
its constant ebb and flow
ever moving to its destiny, alive

and as she drifts upon the water
reaches her hand deep into its warmth
it slips between her fingers

of her hand

that is the Water
that is the Shimmer
of golden Light

there is no more striving

  pb 2012