Poetry from Gloria Lopez


Lake Chabot, Castro Valley, California

I took a walk around the winding path of Lake Chabot,
and all at once, I left myself behind and found myself.
My skin soaked the sun’s warmth
as easily as the mountains were expelling excess water,
as easily as it found comfort in the shadows of the trees.
I walked in the silence of chirping birds,
the serenade of mating ducks,
and the lullaby of buzzing insects.
The roaring echo of distant streams came and went
as it washed every thought out of my mind
and the taste of fresh shrubs replaced them.
I witnessed the wind making love to the treetops,
in fundamental harmony,
as the lake’s water rippled in envy
and the soft, white clouds caressed the sky.
I inhaled the dampness of the fertile earth
until my lungs had had their fill,
and my soul had been purified, breath by breath.
I surrendered completely to the beauty and the magic
that engulfed me in its wake,
until liberating, creative forces ran through my veins,
until photographic stills resembled living art,
and this writing wrapped itself around me.
I lavished in this power
until all the shattered pieces of my soul
came together in the serene, mending fire
and I saw myself whole,
reflected on the water.
Gloria E. Lopez

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