Menachem Rephun

Walking on Water






We left our sandals on the bank,
And stood on the water, the gray waves lapping our feet
The sky, a bed of clustering grains
And the old man fishing in the trawler
Walking on water
We looked to the horizon, with its pale triple moon
And remembered being in love
Trapped in a cave,
How the fiery wind caressed our stippled shoulders
Then, it was easy to feel love.
Now, we are nothing more than nomadic wise men
Traveling to this city, following that inscrutable star,
Someday, it will lead us to the garden

© Poetry.com