The koi, red, black, white, metallic gold, slip through the water,
Their paths traced by slow ripples that roll across the pond
Making a panelled lattice of silver, through which the fish
Slide, now visible, now unseen,
Hide, by light, by movement.
A reflected vine, with leaves hard-edged against
The black and silver water, seems more solid than the vine
Emerging from the same root in the bank
To climb towards the sun.
The moment of reality shimmers.
Red, black, white, metallic gold, appear - and vanish.
© Penny Gadd 12/09/2016
Oh, let's all have a poetry party - I thought this was lovely - although as already commented, the word "vine" is a little repetetive.
Thank you, Lorraine and Wilhelmina, for your helpful comments. You're both right about the vine. I've written that in a dozen different ways, but it's still not quite as I want it. Also, I'm still not communicating the mystery here. There are three worlds; the water in which the fish swim; the air in which the vine grows; and the reflections of light, vine and leaves. Which is the "real" world? I don't want to be crass and spell out the question, but it plainly hasn't come across. It's why the vine is "Emerging from the same root in the bank". The growing vine and the reflection of the vine join at the root in the bank.
I shall keep working - and thank you again for your help!
I like this, Penny. It's peace and sunlight, a quiet magic.
The only thing that jars is the repetition of 'vine:
'A reflected vine, with leaves hard-edged against
The black and silver water, seems more solid than the vine'
Try leaving out the first one: 'A reflection, leaves hard-edged...' or 'A reflection, its leaves...' (I prefer the first)
The second usage, being the real vine, then underlines the contrast you're describing.
Lorraine