Wisdom From an Unlikely Source

I talked with a puddle today and asked what wisdom she was willing to give.
She was quiet a long time, and I was afraid I had offended.

At the end of our silence she spoke.
“First,” she murmured, “Tell me what you see. Then I will give you my wisdom.”

I leaned and looked deep.
“You are beautiful, brilliant, smooth and difficult to hold
Soft when I caress, hard as stone when I use force.
You are transparent. I can see what supports you.
As your environment changes, so you accept the change,
becoming what serves the elements: vapor, liquid, ice.
And yet, don’t you still keep the same essence
throughout a lifetime of change?”

I dribble you through my fingers, disturbing your rest.
I’m amazed how quickly you return to your peace
leaving willingly a part of you with me,
absorbed through my skin, cleansing me
Accepting my gift of unrest as
ripples playing on your surface – changing your boundaries.

The birds tell me about you, too.
They say you taste like stone and purple delight.

I decide to taste you, too
It’s true!
Liquid dust, the fragrance of things remembered,
sweet regret, sweet truth in forgiveness,
chance, another opportunity.

I taste again, my tongue exclaiming Chill! Refresh! What a kick!
I wonder that you can be so many things at the same time
and still be true.

and yet you are.

We rested silent again, a long time this time comfortable, for I know I had spoken truth.

At last, my puddle (mine, for now I knew her) my puddle spoke:
“Here is my wisdom,” she whispered.
I leaned close to hear.
“I only reflect what is. I have nothing else to give.”

Silence deafened. I drank what she gave.
When I felt I understood, I looked to her for confirmation.
I saw only my own eyes, and then she was gone.
The universe had need of her now.

I mourned her passing, and tears filled her bed.

A new puddle smiled and whispered, “Hello, Beautiful.”