The sky is falling
into itself, gently
drop by drop
it ripples through my
sky-pond face
as perfect circles expand
rolling into me
i sway and dance
my weedy hair swirling
with trailing mud-clouds
though still upon
the bank i sit
i am lifted up
on cattail-bird wings
into the grey-green mist
breeze-eddies whisper
through my tree-head
tickling mossy thoughts
i laugh, bubbles rising
from my belly-fish
dragonfly-eyes cry
tadpole-tears
that wriggle down, down
to the bottom of this
magic mirror-pool
deep into my heart-rock
where i am but
an image merging
where, though still i sit
the sky is falling
©1994 Liesl Lee