The Lake of Life

The Lake of Life Placid water is ringed by steep banks, clusters of Willows weeping at the water’s edge; Their branches caress the surface in the breeze, Sending intimations across to the distant shore. Far into the centre, a splash heralds the predations Of the sleek pike; whilst beneath the willows’ canopy, Fallen insects held in the surface tension disappear In the faint, lazy sounding plop of extinction. Deep beneath the surface, hazy light reaches down from the sparkling surface, momentarily Bringing a silver flash of scales, before cloaking Silently patrolling forms in sombre shadows. As evening falls, the clouds of midges hang Dark against the fading light, and swallows perform Acrobatics in pursuit of the damsel fly escaping its Watery confines. And the moment is broken by memory. Memory: identity, selfness, the compass of a person, Mirrored in the cruel serenity of the lake, Seven ages played out in the mind, punctuated By poignant recall of joy, and bittersweet sorrow. So am I recreated endlessly by my memories; Memories of you, memories of happiness, memories of Loss and pain, new memories created as the Old die, bringing renewal of self, an enduring “I”.