And Now She's Awake

And Now She's Awake


I swam through the darkness, always upward, my eyes open,
seeing ahead through the streaming dark water.
On the other side, the wavering image of my father, smiling,
holding my eyes as I swam to him.
We both knew the joy of my kicks and wriggles,
my speed in the water,
my delight at finding myself here,
and once more, a girl.
We shared that delight in my strength, that rejoicing,
and felt as one the split second
I swam through my own reflected image,
held as a twist of the wind on the water
when I reached through the surface to touch him.
For a split second my baby blues and my broad smile overlay
his, and we both saw through them,
and I touched his face, his rough beard
and my chubby fingers met and the love never wavered,
and the wind sang the song it sings
of having and holding, finding and releasing, letting go
and losing and finding and touching and singing again.


Rick Mobbs March 2009
--with rest the poetry returns