Momentum

Waxing moon,
Tinted slightly golden,
covering endless mire,
withdrawing into shadow.
In a dream,
gathering energy
for my next step,
I inhale.
Exhale.
Doubt will
Leave my mind
for the sanctity
of moonlight.
Open eyes,
the swamplands
smell organic,
raw with wet earth.
My fist unclenches,
releasing the stone
to reunite with water.
In a predictable way,
a circle, a ripple,
toward my leg.
Bringing momentum.