The Well

All day to gaze down into a well

as into yourself – as through self

to the blue sky fringed with green

of the world; and at length,

through a tunnelled forest of fronds that grow

from the mossy walls, to perceive

only your own face against the sky,

eyes glazed in contemplation, staring back

through a forest: is at large

to behold and desire to behold –

through foliage and from beyond darkness –

always, as in a well, meeting your stare,

your own face afloat on the surface,

with your thoughts bubbling from the deep spring

and your voice, reverberant, echoing response;

and to forget how without it

there is only the old perspective into endless dark

with silence at the source.