Worlds at the Lake

By the lake, you and I

inhabit our own worlds.

Yours is bounded by the water and sand,

full of mud, sticks, bugs, driftwood.

Mine between the pages of my book.

I watch you thrill and squeal,

then calm and inspect

what plants look like underwater

and how deep the mud goes,

your hands and feet, your only tools.

I am reading about being present 

in every moment of my day

and so I put my book down

for awhile, just to watch you poke, explore,

and find your own way along the beach.

You ask, Can you see me?

over and over, because I told you,

Stay where I can see you.

And it reminds me again and again

that you long to be seen.

You became a part of that lake yesterday

while I only visited.

My distaste for sand and messes

kept me apart from the place,

But you inhabited it fully, and I loved watching you.