Green Lake

Lying in the grass, my eyes focus gradually, in steps, reflecting the calming of my mind. The people walking the path fade, the colors of the grass and trees contrast, the individual blades assert themselves and I find myself with a single drop of dew resting balancing on a clover leaf inches in front of my nose. A tiny gnat observes me and leaves with indifference. The bloated dew drop seems both peaceful and pregnant with pressure. I can’t help but touch it and it takes several light touches to transfer the dew drop from leaf to skin. The drop divides, my fingers rub together until dry enough to siphon off a bit more, then again, and again…then it’s gone, the leaf as barren as if it had always been that way. Maybe it will hold water again tonight, when the dew settles again, but maybe it will be several nights before this exact leaf is full. Possibly, though not probably, it remains dry forever. I close my eyes, finally calm for a moment.