Through the eyes of a child
I was very young when we first met. Much younger than I am today. My dad carried me on his shoulder on his way into you. He somehow danced your way.
I wondered why – till years later when I put off the shoes myself. My bare feet, sensitive and pale, touched the pebbles still warm from the sun. I tried to take the heavyness from me. I started to dance. And I stopped and I smiled. Then I walked on.
Since then you always put a smile on my face.
One day my father stood in front of you, absorbed your scent and said humbly: „It is not our lake. But we are its people.“I never had a doubt about that. You were and will always be greater than we are.
One day you showed me a different you. I took a boat out to your center and laid back watching the clouds go by. I fell asleep and got lost. Awakend by your restlessness, I raised my head and watched in awe how much you changed. Your body in full power, dark and wild. You went over me, shakened me and drew me to your bottom. You screamed like a wild beast, encaged. But I was wrong.
You are free from anger. You simply act according to your nature. All you do is on purpose. But never planned.
You are free to do what you want whenever you want.
I still call you ‚my friend‘. Your waves refresh me in summer. It gives me confidence to look out on your vastness in the darker days of fall. You carry me in winter when you rest beneath a thick frozen layer. And what a relief it brings when I fill up my lungs again with your scent in early spring.
Yes, I do love you.