Water from the Perspective of Water

Water from the perspective of water
is the tug of kelp at my suspended particles,
is the lazy shuffle of my body, which encloses all things.

Water from the perspective of water
is sunshine within instead of above,
pulsating against my silvery wardrobe.

Water from the perspective of water
is words from the perspective of speech,
flesh from the perspective of a dimple,
prime factors as their numeral product.

 —The moon from the perspective of the moon
  is a nocturne ahead of music: "Before the song was,
  I am," she spins from her silent loom.—

Water from the perspective of water
is Atlas beneath the sky's overturned vessel,
a thousand boats stealing away on the shoulders of my buoyancy,

or is it
a contest of pressures,
mine against the squeeze of a whale's stomach?

Water from the perspective of water
is midnight traffic, sloshing
effortlessly homeward. My secret is gravity.

At any given moment,
though I am trodden or parted or spilled,
yet my rest is in what I am, where I go.


Produced by Stephen Davis. I'm on piano and, erm, vocals.