The Great Lake

How deep do your currents lie

and how many stories can they tell?

What have they seen

beneath your deep blue surface?

So clear as to be ice;

so cold as to be glass,

and yet too deep to see the bottom

where your secrets sleep.

Can you tell me of glaciers past,

of time frozen beneath the permafrost,

of the life that slumbers there still?

Can you show me the remnants of their passing,

the sparkling crystals along your shore,

the glowing sunset under a black light?

Can you point to the bunches of wild grain -

that sustaining growth -

so fragile and essential

to those who lived at your side?

Can you spin the tale of the many sailors

passing by in their ships,

and of the many treacherous storms

that brought them low?

Tell me, oh great endless blue,

how deep do your currents lie?

In the hissing of the waves

I can hear you whisper still:

deeper than they know.

_______________________

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