Stoop Narcissus Poem by John Rickell

Silent aspen grove,
autumn light and pool,
drfting clouds
and glassy mirror,
flies skating safe,
and fish sleep deep
hid in lily pads,
petals limp and noonday heat.

The serpent waits
his innocent purpose,
his birth right
since crawling on his belly,
Frogs waiting to be kissed
Cinderella, Pinochio too,
dreamers in a nightmare world
of make belief and making-do.

Stoop Narcissus, be not proud!
reflect the fading day,
beauty in the eye of conceit.
Fold your arms, kiss the lake
see your face smiling
in the rippling water,
watch the tide to turn,
see the water-boatman,
smooth a cross the lake
and serpent, eyes closed
waiting his birth-right
sliding on his belly.