in the well of the true self

there lies a pool leftover

from the ocean of creation.

my mother casts down the bucket

and draws up a daughter

not the one she wished for

but this is not a wishing well.

my brother casts down the bucket

and draws up a sister

fierce companion and bitter rival

bound as only blood can bind.

****

**the girl from school casts down the bucket **

**and draws up a light of mirth**

**together we shine **

**through tears and smiles and youth.**

****

**a boy casts down the bucket**

**and draws up a heart**

**it was his for as long as he held it**

**but he forgot it in the forest.**

****

**but in small hours**

**when the water is still**

**and i echo with only breath and heartbeat**

**i sing with the infinite and unreachable depth **

**of my mother ocean.**

****

****