where the writers are
Lake Damariscotta



I realize

That I am never happier

Than when near water  

Sitting by it

Listening to waves crash

Or lakes lap

Or streams bubble

Being on it

Paddling a canoe or kayak

Listening to the paddle stroke the water

With that delicious sound that only

Water can make

Being in it

(Best of all)

Feeling its liquid coolness

The quiet that no sounds can penetrate

The rhythm of my breathing

A meditation

Strong strokes

Arms pulling me forward lithe and graceful

Legs straight and kicking

But hardly making a splash

And I wonder if I was a fish

Or some other water being

Feeling I belong

In its depths

My body and mind

Young once again.