Hot Springs

A poem taken from a personal experience in Costa Rica.

Hot Springs

The warm water pushes past my body
Gently caressing my sides
Parting in ripples


It runs over my fingers
Brushes along my pale legs
And falls into the darkness


Joining a larger pool
Over which my toes dangle
High in the warm night air


Fireflies blink and flicker
Their small yellow light
Reflects distorted off the black water


The smell of the jungle
Is exotic and strange in my nose
A mixture of damp earth, and unknown plants


The night air is full of foreign sounds
The unfamiliar call of a monkey
Or the hum of a large insect


The night breathes
It is alive and aware
And I am caught in the eye of it