My foot like a little white paddle dips into starry, velvety blackness.
A robin’s egg blue watery cushion receives my foot.
Pink ribbons of organ music curly cue the edges of the pool.
Soft folds of powdery perfume musk the white and gold clouds.
I think, I might be in Heaven.
Lights out.
I drop down and down into a murky kingdom.
Tendrils of plant intelligences silk my body.
I’m holding my breath.
Holding. Breath.
Breathe.
Breathe from the inside. All air is populating my cells.
The mitochondria from seven thousand years ago catches me,
a loving mother teaching her daughter to swim.
Floating along the river, I’m buoyed by patches of lilies.
Rocks and branches give way to my passing
into spring again.
The ice is melting.