Free

A firm push, and then I am free.
From the pebbled shores scraping my stomach,
From the ground to which gravity binds me.
Now in the water, I float above.
Gravity pushes me down, but the lake keeps me up.
For that, I am grateful.
The water is cold and refreshing.
Green with white froth on top.
It lifts me, so I can drift along on its surface.
So I can carve through it like a spade in the dirt.
The wind blows along the lake, chilling my hull.
The fish swim beneath me, tickling my belly.
The plants tangle around me, but I never fail to pull free.
Birds fly over, paying me no attention.
I am too large and too brightly colored to be seen as food.
I am free to swim without fear of attack.
Somebody sits atop me. I cannot see their face.
They push me down, but not too hard.
I do not begrudge them. I am in no danger.
And I try to keep them from the danger as well.
This is what I do.
They are free to drift without worry, without fear.
Like me.