The lake is my adopted place of birth
Where easily can I renew naïve
Sensation, relishing what I perceive,
Appreciating living nature’s worth.
My pace is slow, but freer than on earth.
Viscosity and buoancy relieve
Enough of effort that I can believe
In joy that lasts, a self-sustaining mirth.
No need for any difference, no dearth,
No care for what I have or will receive;
I let my thoughts devolve on what I weave,
And drift from lake to river, thence to firth…
I’m confident the pow’r of my devotion
Transports me ever closer to the ocean.
— Josh Mitteldorf
#58 from the I Ching Sonnet Project