Canoeing Memory
Canoeing Memory
Blood floods my brain with days of youth,
As I relax on the sofa and let my mind wander,
To happier times when paddling the lake;
In our cedar canoe, my friend and I,
Skinny-dipping under the warm night sky:
Splashing, laughing; unaware of time slipping by.
We’d scan the heavens and point out constellations,
Following each other’s finger as we recited their names.
Our hearts breathed the lush of seasonal fun engagement,
While staring up in silent agreement on how wonderful life was.
Without props or scripted lines, we talked about the universe,
Philosophizing as far as our limited knowledge would let us.
Spirited adventurous duo, we two were
(Que será, será), exploring the world.
Within our vision, imagining what it would be like,
To go back and live in the days of our ancestry,
Or skip ahead and see what we’d become
For a brief second; until reality set in.
Then, just as quick, we’d pick up the pace
As the moon shone our way across the lake.
The still waters swirling in our paddles’ wake,
In a mesmerizing effect, that evokes tranquility.
Surely, there is more than life’s reflection in time,
As I lie on this couch, drifting away into oblivion.
***
Note:
Que será, será [Merriam-Webster’s dictionary (Spanish phrase)]: What will be, will be.
Copyright ©
Dennis Spilchuk
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