A clearing is found.
The cool, crisp morning light shines down
upon the liquid, tranquil depths of a lost pond.
A leaf falls, disrupting the surface-
calamity erupts,
the surface distorts.
Ripples race towards the shore.
In that instant, the world holds its breath.
waiting.for the disruption to destroy.
Hold on.
Time passes.
The ripples dissolve, leaving silence in the cool, crisp morning light.
Tranquility once again survives.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem