I am not a poet, but there was a moment while I was living in Belgium at the very start of the pandemic when I looked into the reflection of trees in a puddle in the forest by my Boitsfort home. I felt such a deep desire to dive into the forest on the other side of the puddle, and I heard words. Prose arose.
I wrote this poem on the day Belgium went into lockdown at midnight. Friday, March 13th.
Look into a puddle
I look into a puddle
Into a mirrored image of the trees
From my side of the forest to the water’s side
Is there a world in that water
on the other side of the reflection?
A photograph does not capture the feeling
Of moving into
A world on the other side
Of moving down down down into the depths
Into the deep
What if I just dive in
Leave this world behind
In exchange for another quieter, more peaceful one
A world without people cars phones panic pandemic fear
A world apart
A silent world
A water world
With trees that grow as tall as mountains
Stretching beyond infinity
A world where I can be silent
Where I can be
Silent
Silence
Be
Existence
But will there be music?
If I open my mouth to sing, will there be sound?
Perhaps, then, I will stay
For now
life of m 