At the Edge of the Lake
© Nancy L. Meek 2001

I chanced the trip to the edge of the lake
stepping gingerly through the grass
soaked with dew from the morning’s wake
the vision holding me . . . alone at last

Another time I would not be as brave
to risk the visit to this supernal scene;
but, alas, I am pulled as a loving slave
for here He is close, at the water green

Ripples form from a smooth rock tossed
and my heart flutters within my breast;
watching them lap the bank, I feel lost,
not knowing which path would be the best

He laughs, I laugh, He cries, I cry
then why does my heart now struggle so
for this love divine I cannot deny
this precious fire I've come to know?

A lake of diamonds before me shines,
a branch nearby gives a lark a rest,
twittering in glee as the sun reclines,
beating a tune from his throbbing breast

A perfect passion of souls entwined,
a holy communion of spirits set free
I dream of a life of a sacred kind,
concepts once, now alive in me

The tranquil lake gives not a clue
as to what I must do in the end;
deaf to the stirrings of my emotions true,
mute in the matters around the bend

I look to the clouds, the trees, the sky
for release from my current state
floating adrift with the eagle on high
flying free . . . unconcerned with fate

The resident gator, trolling the lake,
stares in apathy at my questions raised;
and, too, ignored am I by the snake
who slithers past me totally unfazed

The only one left to hear my prayer
has always been there for me, I think,
clearing my path with the utmost care,
keeping me back from the water’s brink

Thus, I'll put my faith and trust in Him
and believe that He will show me the way
to sacrifice all I might have been
to live with Him one day




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