SWIMMING

Sometimes this happens:

Every happy memory,
A cascade of mystic encounters,
The body’s imprint of physical joy,
All eliding, weaving, coming together
In a kaleidoscopic ecstasy.

This moment’s joy,

Resonating with all those others,
Like a chorus of alleluias,
Drowning me in dripping scented oil,
As I drift, float, sink, and find
I’m swimming in a symphony.

 

By Angela Scott

August 2001