Rubicon

There, in the shallow banks where the grass peers through the water
And tiny fish dart amidst the shells,
I have seen miniscule bubbles float from the earth's womb
To deliver a message from the grave of the Gods.
"You have met your rubicon,"
The bubbles announce as they pop.

No one hears them, and no one would listen anyway,
But I hear them and keep it to myself.
I can smell my favorite of all smells:
Fresh water on the breeze.
So nothing worries me, not a rubicon or impasse -
I am taken in by the withering bliss of dividing bubbles.

5/09