Vessels of Water

Her heart is a remote lake
swaddled in the jagged edges
of faraway mountains
and sharp tips of pine trees.
Snow capped in cold silence
they immobilize her secrets.

Her heart is a bottomless well
on a forgotten farm,
claimed by anthills and scotch broom.
Her fractured bucket buried
in her algae covered water
long, long time ago.

Her heart is the Pacific Ocean--
leagues and leauges of salt water
and undiscovered weeds:
Her heart so foreign,
She whispers, sings and screams
in waves no man can translate.

Her heart is a geyser caged in earth,
when She weeps, Her heart is so full
the pressure of isolation so harsh,
She spills and shrills all over,
for Her body can not carry
the burden of water weight.

What do you see in her waters?
Only a glistening surface,
Life's reflection on Her face,
a beauty in two dimensions,
the outline of your figure,
as you walk along Her shore.