Background
On the eve of my adventure to the UK for two years I went down to the dock below the house I grew up in. It fronts onto Kalamalka Lake in Vernon, British Columbia.
It’s a popular spot for tourists all over the world, but to me, it was dry, dull home. I rarely go down to that beach and that twilight. But as I sat on the dock and looked over the water, to all the mountains rising above the valley, I realised life is only as perfect as we decide to see it.
The Mighty Quest for the Perfect Pool
I made myself a swimming pool.
Long and deep as the sea.
I made it warm as bathwater
but as clear as the waves of Tenerife.
I made it for an afternoon
when life got long, grey and rough.
Like sandpaper concrete and construction
work that means no thought is free of a
cuss.
I made it and waited for the perfect
day. Sat on the edge. Toes dipped in.
I waited for the clouds to pull back
and sun to shine as white as a beluga
fin.
I waited so long my toes turned to
prunes
and dozed my way through the day. After
day.
After day. After day.
Until a friend stopped by. Head popped
over the fence.
Can I swim in your lagoon today?
I looked askance. Lagoon? I had but a
round, sterile pool.
I looked at my pool next. Eyes wide as
they soaked in water.
Full of weeds and algae. Fish and
fronds. A monkey and a waterfall tree.
I had waited so long to think my pool to
perfection.
It got there fine on its own.
It got there so fine it had started
living its own life.
Quite done with my bothering not to live
my own.
So if you make yourself a swimming pool.
Don’t forget to swim in it too.
Otherwise the dream will get bored and
do its own thing,
until someone comes along with a dream
to add to.
My friend has a lagoon pool now.
Sometimes I visit.
But I decided to make myself a tree fort
instead.
As tall and grand as the sky.
Only this time. I’ll remember to swing
off the branches.
Play football with the stars. Before
construction ends.
I’ll make myself a tree fort.
