A Glass of Water
 
The glass of water is bright with grey light
beset with rings of the universe
ellipses defining transparency,
 
embraced by soft shadows,
colourless, waiting demurely
on the grain of the table,
 
throwing new shapes,
twisting and moving, a workshop
of silver from mountains and streams,
 
puritan in its straightforwardness,
Water knows its power.
It does not need to wear jewels
 
or dance like wine in the streets.
It flows over the stones on the moor
with wonderful clarity,
 
like a conjuror raising his arms at the end of a trick.

John Daniel

If you have any thoughts on this poem,  John Daniel  would be pleased to hear them.