The Sight of Mired Spray #Poetry

Torn off from the bended willow
you fall – a twig in flight of conquer,
I – the algae blooming in the lake below,
dissipate pierced by your entirety;
pieces of envy to all sides, enamoured
of this summer frivolity, rearranging me whole.

In all moonlit dreams I dreamt tall,
I was the willow and had you drink lakes
from here and far away; together a centaur –
one half chasing the curves of the land,
the other bearing a clear head to steer it safe,
even if hooves are roots, each curl of hair but a frond.

As I dispersed startled by your affect,
I witnessed a brave spear sink like a splinter
to the murky kingdom, lying heavy on the bed;
fragments gather back together puzzled,
driven to depths of dark endeavour for a single
broken branch of dewy glory, one fading last sunset.

Come back to where in green breadcrumbs
I float above this place of sudden separation;
at the time of impact I found you a common vagrant –
descended to mock my lack of connection
to earth and cloud, and all of life’s many stations;
now the sight of a mired spray makes me mourn my friend.

© VishalDutia