William Barnhill

Blue springs give life and come from deep below;
Starting the crystal flow that has ebbed unchecked before time was a
conception.
Palms caress the boil;
Extended frawns cast shadows from the great lights reflection.
Dark mass is filled with noises, rustling in the night air;
The jungle closes in with steamy walls;
Living, breathing and speaking of ancient days;
When humans were not yet God's invention.
Black Shadowy veins criss cross the bottom;
Thrown from branches illuminated by the Moon of the Manatee.
Schools, suspended in an invisible fluid;
Sleeping in motion, dreaming the dream of the quiet ocean;
Filled with sunlight and free of predators.
Hulky bodies are made chalky white by the lunar kiss;
Bobbing slowly in the current, taking wispy breaths;
Whiskered faces, who's only expression is that of permanent happiness;
Bestowed by natures loving touch.
Scares on top of scares;
Stretch from rounded backs to paddle shaped tails;
Numbering in the hundreds, one for each encounter with the world of man.

Mother Manatee guards the small swimmer by her side.
Mingling with the brother and sisterhood of an old race;
Hanging on by a flickering vestige of the original number;
Their grasp on this world, a string;
Dangling from the hand of creation;
Poised to become either our companions of the future, or an entry in a book;

Prophetic legacy for our children's children;
Perpetuating a world wanting more and more;
Perpetuating a culture leaving less and less .
Under the Moon of the Manatee water flows;
Unchecked from its source, since forever was a promise;

Made by the stars and planets.
In this sheltered place the water shall always come;
Renew the hope of all that visit this spot;
Signifying eternal life and the renewal of all;
With possibilities that only hope and love can bring.