Water Vein I Well

Descending down to the bottom at the end
Of the snow-covered slope
Lies an old spring water well

Darkly swaying clear water surface
On careful inspection there
Steam rises

Unconsciously I dipped my hand in
I was struck
Embraced by the earth
Warm water

Before I could ask why
Already there was
Delivered there
And arrived temperature

As if ashamed
Of its speed
Instead of language
The water had turned to rising steam

I also
Lay the burden of language down
And soaked my hands silently in the water

To reply
To the words of the spring

WATER VEIN I WELL

WATER VEIN I WELL