Bridging Canals

In dreams I’ve had where water flows with plenty

I could fill my belly and the fresh would never run empty

Yet, that which dwells in the water

Hiding or coming for me

I’ve seen it within the waters, in the shallows and in the deep

In the waters I’ve dreamt of many a great beast

Their sight blesses my eyes, with more than an imaginary feast

I’ve seen to them the forms they have, on kayaks and ships I’ve sailed

In one dream I perfectly recall, like thresher sharks they had their tails

I dreamt of Lake Champlain

The water flat, a calm, blue plain

I walked a bridge with my younger sibling

Their beauteous sight is what they give me

A waterfall above a bank

A river that did not flow, like a ditch was its state

I looked up and down the way, its course

The sixteenth one a baby, like Crusoe the water horse

A waterfall that made no splash

No drippings, no currents did the waterfall cause, not a single thrash

One continuous fluid motion, did those spill and drop on down

A waterfall a man could swim up, and not fall, nor could simply drown

Of the fifteen I saw them play, lighting the joy within my chest

Some would sit with their tails at the fall, laying down to rest

Like orcas, they grouped and hanged about in cliques

Side-by-side, flipper-to-flipper, in pods they seem to stick

In a waking day, I saw a clip of two men who were on a boat

They saw four creatures, around them swimming, while they remained a float

One swam underneath the fishermen, its neck and flippers caught on camera lens

The other had two smaller ones on its back, like chicks to a mother hen

Hence why I had dreams of these creatures within my brain

A real life wish, to travel to Lake Champlain

Within my dreams I’ve returned to a place I assume would be Venice

A fantasy version of the place, folks told of a local legend, not menace

The waters were clear, instead of sand there were bricks, flowing river currents

Playing hide and seek, tag and chase, swimming in what was turbulent

The ones in the lake were more of gray and some were even blue

The one that played with me in Venice was a brown and muddy hue

I guess it’s weird to say, a prediction say, Venice’s waters were dark and brown

I rode them on a gondola years before the corona virus had the world on lockdown

Now the waters run pretty, clean, like there’s no pollution at all

Maybe now we can find other creatures there of all sizes big and small

Of dreams with these creatures it’s weird to think that old times of good have past

If such being do still exist, with our lives may they last

Of such dreams, the mind does order, and organize our thoughts into constructs

Of such dreams we learn to care for ourselves by our world, so we do not self-destruct

Off into my dreams, I’ll slumber, sleep and snore

When it comes to dreams, I hope they live as well, I’ll be swimming with the plesiosaurs