Water Poem by Frank Meintjies

the liquid
sometimes silver
sometimes brackish, pushing, seeding, straining
insinuating through small spaces
rib and rib, rock and stone

silver droplets
like beads of wetness
in the eye
dissolving hardness

this, on which our dreams sail
like little boats

we came, we bow, we wait
excited
as kids for sprinkles and ice-cream
in africa's sun
we wade gingerly, we surrender
& sparkle

we feel
lower and higher currents
twirling & writhing
like eels
around our legs
& middle

we feel the tow, the backpull
the lick and slurp
we swallow; are swallowed
while small birds cavort
high up
against the summer blue

plugholes
to dunkings, to insights
phases that dribble in, stumble, then swell

the liquid of our dreams; then, moments of
waking
into constituents, continents, momentary solidness

we live on
beside the river
within us