My Waterhole

                                                           My Waterhole   

Dr. Abe V. Rotor

Living with Nature - School on Blog

Alug or Waterhole in acrylic by AVRotor, 2000

Memories come easy on this foot bridge

Many years ago I built across a stream,

Stream in monsoon and pond in summer,

Alug, as the old folk call it - a waterhole.

It was my waterhole; I saw the world in its water -

Images of airplanes cruising, birds migrating,

Clouds in many patterns, many faces and hues;

The arena of wit and skill, fishing for hours.

And fishing not for fish but dreams,

Dreams about far places, of beautiful things,

Dreams almost real, even as they fade away

In ripples and into the dusk.

One day I woke up to find my waterhole

Swallowed up by floodwater from the hills,

Washing away the air castles I built,

And down its path it took summer away forever.

I walked the bridge to its far end and beyond,

And down the river to the sea I cast my pole.

It was a fight I fought, it was no longer game,

And it was neither fish nor dream I caught.~

Sunshine on Raindrops, AVRotor Megabooks, 2000 ~