By day
there are YMCA swim lessons
amid spray-on sunscreen clouds
and chlorine
a stop by the super-store on the way home
for a 12-pack roll of toilet paper

By night
I am an ancient soul
dreamtime
where I live
on the banks of an inlet
observing centuries of mariners
who approach my river mouth
and settle

these travelers are the water cultures
Indians of the Ganges
Polynesians of the Pacific
Italians from Venetian canals

It works this way in dreams
details may not match the mind
there’s just an understanding

that there is one water source
and a merging of its distant parts
waterways and bloodlines
cultures collide
over time
space
seep
blend

Who is this ancient me
in dreamtime
watching time unfurl
through men in boats
finding their way to the shore?

she understands
it’s all connected
not in the way
one would read a bumper sticker on a Prius
it’s a knowing
fundamental
as the element of water

dreamy waters, yes
but real all the same