Fifteen

One day, the wise ones will float without

water.

The depth of their wisdom will be

unfathomable.

Because their knowledge will be so far

superior to mine, I can only attempt

this clumsy description.

The wise ones will be careful

as someone who crosses a frozen

stream.

Alert, like one who is aware of danger.

Courteous, like a visiting houseguest.

Essential, like uncarved wood.

Dark and hollow, like caves.

Who among us can be patient and wait

quietly, while the mud settles

and the water clears by itself?

Who among us can remain open

and receptive enough

to awaken

slowly into life?