A broken tulip

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I like the lake.
How it is so strong
yet so very smooth.
How we inhale to soak
our lungs in freshness.

I like the lake
how it sorts the stones
from small to large,
settling them into the sand
each one smoothed.

I like the lake
how walking near to it
reminds you how small we all are
even in a pandemic
a boy and an adult both
hurl rocks into the water
which splash without a sound
the waves are so loud
the water so big it can forgive
every disturbance.
Why is that
comforting?

I like the lake
because it is a poetry everyone hears;
little sister waves her finger
to trace in the air the curves of wet on the shore
shape of a heartbeat
shape of a sound wave
a temporary signature.
Mom lifts both arms up and down
to exclaim over light breaking through.
A woman kneels on a log to dip her camera low,
catch the green of waves and the way
the sky cracks, beautiful, far away.
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