The Ondine

In reservoirs, far underground, where stalagmites are sometimes found. In lakes and ponds and puddled pools, in mist and marsh and snow that cools, I hide beside my sisters. In issuing springs that sparkle bright, on stony slopes of shade and light, to flowing streams that twist and turn, past meadow banks of grass and fern, I glide beside my sisters. In river reach with rippling flow ‘tween rush and reed I always go, to delta mouths both deep and wide, which seas contest at every tide, to glide beside my sisters. In raging rapids torrents race, or waterfall’s tumultuous pace, in storm lashed seas, which crash and break, on shingle shores that white waves rake, I ride beside my sisters. And who am I that rides so free, who glides and hides so easily; a mermaid in the salty sea, a naiad or a white kelpie? A water nymph you just might see, me ride, beside my sisters.