I walk very slowly, one gentle step at a time.
The quiet of the morning requires it.
I stop in tall grasses dotted with chicory,
the season’s first, its petals blue as sky,
and smile to see the buds of water lilies,
poking out from beneath their lily pad leaves
like round little lemons, the lake’s still waters
mirroring them. Here, despite everything,
the Yes remains, breathing its spacious peace,
just to remind us.