Forgotten Ground Regained
Making Waves:
An Experiment in Alliteration
Stillness.
Plop.
Water wakes.
moveless before that moment.
Myself am come, in the calm surface
ripples expand wide from the place of my rising.
announcing to the remotest parts of the pool the momentous news.
From the core of their restless hurry I watch my heralds race, because
the thought my mind loves to ponder, the pleasure that delights most, the thing
that puts a smile on my face is being - I - a big fish in a small pond.
Rings forming; rising, falling, rocking, failing, rising finally, ripples fade.
Stillness.
Copyright © Pat Masson, 1994. Published with the permission of her family.
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