I’m a freshwater gal,
prefer murky, stagnant
pools to the onrush
of rapids, currents
annoy me, challenge
my delicate body,
content to feed off
lanky foliage, swim
in dim-lit passages;
fear it was the flash
of gold, or glimpse
of a mermaid tail
that first attracted
man, compelled him
to trap then breed me
artificially – in glass
houses, distorted
worlds colliding with
my sensitivity, absent
safe havens for retreat.
Worldly now, tossed
into constructs called
ponds – added rocks,
footbridges or lily pads
do not deceive me –
cellular memory is
not to be quieted, I
dream of night skies,
and morning dew, and
sun baking the water’s
surface, of diversity,
schools and families
cannot tolerate this
one-flush destiny,
need space to be –
not an illusion of
recognize my captivity
for what it is – concrete
walls cannot define me;
the wild, the free burns
deep – thousand years
of containment has not
defiled my DNA, and I
will remember long after
that final plunge, in
reincarnation may not
be so forgiving – no
longer a timid fish.
(image: http://animals.mom.me/goldfish-live-4748.html)
One Woman's Quest 