Unsure of where my margins lie
Know only that
In my fishy depths strange energies
Tossing me hither and thither.
The storms that make me heave and writhe
Pull my tears into the sky
To fall as dew on a rose’s bloom
Or rain on forest canopies.
Am filled by others’ lives
Their stories flowing into my depths
Tranquil now, a mirror, I
Reflect the stars and sun and moon
And, yes, your face.
I cast myself in arching bows
A dove of peace upon my breast.