Wind on the Witte Rivier

A ruffling southeaster

soon after dawn

ripples a Wellington mountain pool

to wake and blink

then wink white, as if light

layed on these reachless deeps

knowingly hints

at the dazzling presence

gusted and circling in whispers

Water arms furl under the breeze

pushing waves to the banks

countless stones clack in as many fingers

These unfreighted rocks 

under wind on the water

ask seasons of heaviness

changing my gaze 

to answer the blustery now

of this river’s frank youth

All I can say? Yes! I am here

to be torrent roughed, tousled

and cooled

like today’s first sun

sprinkled,

to answer God’s voice over water

unspeaking

like a lad half clothed whoops

ankle deep in the daybreak

all sparkled

then finding breath

leaps

Allen Goddard