While you watch, may your loyal ally rest upon your lap
and a light breeze lift your spirit
off the dock, separating from the body which aches.
May a red ball of fire suddenly announce its presence
on the horizon, its reflection in the lake
growing longer as it rises, pushing the day’s clock to begin.
When its light is splintered by trees, may you still know warmth
as you sit on the dock toes dipped in water
creating ripples to meet those of the fish.
And may the blue herons nudge you from this trance,
the long flaps of their sails
soaring over the morning’s grace.