Bottle Of My Being Poem by William Waterway

While hiking at twilight – a voice beckons
“Drink from the stream”
I follow

I kneel, then bow
with hands on moist Earth
eyes enter flowing mirror

I see my face undulate
see surface; bottom; fish
and other living forms
I see clouds soar – white/gray/yellow/orange
bent branches with waving leaves; birds; sky blue
and glimpses of infinity too

Fingers penetrate cool water
reflected sun sparkles a pattern
A vision?
Divine sanctification?
A blessing before drinking?
Face near water - inhale bouquet
evaporating essence
of rare fragrance
as music flows
into bent ear

Tasting the moments vintage,
I discern flavors of stones; hints of blended root
stem and leaf, and other things beyond belief
even the telltale blush of fish, frog
and pollywog!
And, what is this? Do I detect bubbly of bottom?
Beneath my tongue – is that the flavor
of gold and silver fermented by light of sun?

Ancient urge…
sips deepen to gulps as
a flood fills
the bottle of my being