The Lake is Here

The Lake is Here

The loon sings

her sad, mournful

song as I float by-

careful not to disturb her

or her fuzzy chick.

It is an illusion.

But the lake is here,

the loon,

her baby,

and you paddling

beside me.

I can see it all

with my own eyes.

No, the illusion isn't

that this all exists,

But that the lake,

the loon,

her baby,

and you

all exist separately–

That our cells and

memories are not

all intertwined

like a ball of yarn.

Just as your heart

beats in time with mine.