Last night I dreamt about the water mountains
in Chiapas.
The misty air is filled with rainbows
and the noise of pounding flowing water;
rivers which sculpt rock and paint it
with calcified limestone
so creating a perfect mirrored surface
in the idle spots.
I knelt, scrying into the clear pool
seeing jungle details; clouds billowing above
boulders framing
and my own
overlarge ears
delicate long trunk reaching out
to touch the glass
making it ripple and momentarily dissolve.
Suddenly aware
my knees are aching
I struggle to stand
like a calf again,
instead of a matriarch.
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