How do you taste the world?

Current

Here, under the soft flat leaves of the pond's surface

I stir the sediment

I draw in the world, sieve it through my mouth, my gills,

tasting, returning it.

I am met by the pulse of movement from the outside.

Time flows through my body with the ease of water.

I shift position, yield my gaze. The element

chooses my direction.

I draw my mouth shut and I hear my praise ascend

against stillness. Others hear it. They too,

hold themselves against the pressure of the depths.

I am drawn by that tattered leaf, by the trails

of water bugs written on the surface, the taste of currents pulsing

from the spring.

I recognize the charge that every thing possesses.

How changeable a signature—I have seen a touch bring death.

I live amid particles and waves, blood, currents,

secrets. In the darkness, I keep still

the questions.

The answers themselves

return my gaze.