The Pool Poem by Tessa Roods

The Pool

In small town Montana,
I found a dream.
A speck of a view;
My first reflection into me.

Born, but not raised,
I returned annually.
A family divided,
Out of necessity.

The farm house out North,
No longer sang true;
As the new lady of the house,
Had a sideways view.

The comfort of youth
Pulled out from under me,
As it was time to accept, the
Dynamics of my broken family.

Finally! A summer heat!

The kids of the country
Were granted a retreat.
Mid-day they were bused in,
And at the local pool,
We all shared a swim.

The next thing I can see,
Is a blurred image of you and me.
Under the sun we sat happily,
As your brother brought us candy.

After we had a good sugar high,
We looked each other square in the eye.
In your reflection I could see,
The shallow waters were no longer ‘we'.

At a mild pace, our hearts took a race;
To a pool forbidden to the weary and weak;
As the depths of its blue
plunged over 10 feet deep.

After our feet slipped in,
I looked over to your mischievous grin.
In a distance I could hear,
The noise of all others, so clear.

But next to you and me,
There was a ripple of silence,
Vast as any sea.

Our little hands held the side,
And once again I looked into your eyes.
I saw that we had reached,
Only part of our victory.

My next memory:
I perceive two young things;
Together, putting steps to the sky;
Following him to destiny.

From the top I can see,
All of the other children,
In the safe spot I was supposed to be.

I then look below,
And I see his little body,
Looking up at towards my soul.

My mind finally clears,
And I begin to fly without fear.

In a matter of seconds
My feet anchor the low,
Using the bottom
As a platform of growth.

I imagine:
As I surfaced,
And I swam to him,
My heart told my head:
' Please, never let her forget'.

Next -the whistles blew;
All of us kids lined up,
To return to the homes
They assumed that we knew.

- - -

Back then, I was too young to know,
The positive power of another's soul;
That the energy we hold deep inside,
Is a story written time after time.

- - -

That summer,
our eyes met once more,
as we found a spot to dance,
safe from the wet shore.

As the night closed in,
I watched him dance without me.
For the first time
I heard my heart speak loudly:

'What is meant to be will be,
So walk away beautifully.
As your tender heart knows,
This meeting did influence your soul.

'Its sway will idle for years,
But the memory, when needed,
Will be clear.

'It was a promise made to me,
As I watched you swim in the deep.

'So please dance on my sweet,
And know, I will always be the platform
At your feet.'