At the Lake

Icy tranquility. A lake’s expanse.
Silence. Frozen peace.

Only high above
two white birds
are bathing in the sunlight.

Blood beats hotly in their veins;
above the rushes they play
until the western sky darkens.

Suddenly—weakness and dwindling . . . 
Across an invisible corner of the lake
a rippling rose up, faint and light
like an unknown tremor through the body.
The water was ever so slowly enlaced,
then everything settled again into stony calm.

***

When will I stir and well into rage,
so much that I rise, that I reach to every corner,
that I give to everyone all that I promise,
and like an untamed wave
from shore to shore 
fly in all my strength?