a fish, a sunrise, a step

You stood by the edge of that endless river.

it was that moment just before dawn.

Some say it is the coldest moment;

Some say the most beautiful;

Some say the softness of the hand that motions to wait

in that moment is as soft as the breath of things unnecessary to say…

You cast your line out.

The line went tight to the current’s pull.

And you waited.

You had taken a lifetime to get there, to the edge of that river.

You saw what looked like a star,

as if right there at the end of your line,

out there upon the water, shimmering upon the water’s surface.

Why were you there?

Maybe trying to catch a little bit of daylight ?

Only one brief moment maybe?

Thinking for instance that the first moment of a new day like a soft hand touching time?…

Waiting, to be timeless…

Then there was a tug…

what felt like large fish lunging at your line

and you began reeling in, quickly,

reeling, reeling, getting tired quickly,

getting excited, fearing,

in your excitement, in your tiredness,

that you might lose that fish.

“Keep the line tight,” you heard a voice say next to you,

somehow insistent, yet as softly as

the calmest of sighs, the softest of hands telling you to wait,

to hold on, to be steady

within a steadiness of trying to maintain that tightness,

that hold upon such vibrant life,

and then the surface broke, the star there shattered,

and suddenly, the day - it dawned…

and the night - it took that star

and just disappeared with it

and as if wanting also to go

just then, the fish broke free, and the line went slack…

A glint, a flash of beauty.  A splash of light,

a simple, beautiful moment, the simplicity, the beauty

of that moment

and then, the fish – it disappeared…

And then there was nothing there but the endlessness of that river… 

And you took a step, forward, didn’t you,

looking, maybe not thinking, maybe only leaning, forward,

maybe feeling so alone, maybe lost, maybe bewildered, leaning,

as if maybe only wanting to be close to all of that beautiful disappearance…

And there you waited.  

And there was silence.  And peace.  And calm.

“It’s the way it is with the dawn,” you heard a voice say - not so much

a voice as the feeling of a soft hand upon your breast

in that moment.

“There and then gone,” it said.

 “Like that star,” it said.

“Like that fish,” it said.

 “Like that moment,” it said.

“Sometimes it’s the ones you love,” it said.

“Always only that one step – maybe only a leaning forward,

looking, waiting,

like that one step in your whole life where you might think

you are so alone,

like there is only disappearance before you…

like there is absolutely no one to guide you, to hold you,

to hold you tight…

A step, there and then gone…”

We will all take that step, we will maybe wait, maybe listen…

But is it our step to take, ours to have - to call our own?

A step to take alone and then to be gone?

No.

It is not ours to take.

Because we are not alone in that moment.

(In this moment.)

Because there are always the infinite spaces

of light, and love..,

And that one step, that needs no guiding…

that one true step through the dark night to dawn…

that one step upon all of this assumed solidity…

That’s the fish – that’s the star…

there in the depths, there upon the surfaces,

at daybreak, at dawn and light and love

are not at all like the disappearance

of that star, of that fish, of that moment,

of that step,

but are the emergence

of a calm beauty

of the endlessness of river

whose edge takes us a lifetime to get to.

Peacefully, calmly, bravely, serenely, faithfully, trustfully, simply, beautifully.

Like your whole life, solid, good and true.