And now I see – though clear, invisible –
The nakedness of water. See her form
Delight on shores and stones, poured over rocks,
Dance in cascades, unclothed and without care.
I wonder if she saw me watching here,
Would she cover herself, or rush to hide from me:
But I think not. Though her moods do shift and stray,
She’s wiser than that. She moves as she will move,
Clear water in streams: no shame in what she does,
Like the day she was born, open, in her time.