The Great Encounter

Too young
or too influenced
by the old,

I lost a chance to marvel,

the very image
that surfaced
out of the muddy water,

the entrapment of a stream.

Outside it's flow,
the whirlpool tendrils,
I stared in a face-off

with a bronze scaled deity.

Its immense
Aquarius eyes
shone a dead calm,

a minnow of grand proportions.

I had the audacity
to intrude its silence
with my hands

extending a pronged forked staff.

Feet, sinking in mud
of silt and clay,
I made my way

into it's dark center of solitude.

Legs, dividing
the water awkwardly,
I took aim

at the base of its head.

Once myself
was close enough
to greet her.

with a shock, I threw down---

and lost her there,
quickly vanishing in
streambed mud plumes.

I lost the chance to marvel,

hovering above
the water's emptiness
beneath my kees.