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Cannot a drop of water

Be dew on the meadow,

A glacier?s thaw,

Or the tear of a child?


All things return to their beginnings.

The waters that spill across the falls

Flow to the ocean tide,

Only to be returned

As the rains that join

The mighty river.

Such a small thing,

A drop of water...

And yet enough of them

Together can flood a field,

Cleanse a mire,

Or choke a forest.

And yet, when it?s finished,

All that?s left

Is a ripple

On a pond.

A storm can turn a world to turmoil.

Here it is spring,

And there winter.

For some, time stands still,

While for others, moments flash

Past like minnows in a pond.

The storm blows strong through

The dreams of men

And blows away our assurances,

Like wet autumn leaves

In a wind.

Desperately we cling

To what we love,

Hoping we won?t be torn loose.

But this world is a dream,

And though we cling to our toys

They all fade away

With the passing of time

And the passing of grace.

In the end,

We stand.

Alone among many.

A raindrop

Among millions.

Just one in the storm.

And after our passing,

The ripples will fade.

Perhaps they?ll remember

As we lie in out graves.

But perhaps we?ll be lost

Among the tumultuous waves.



The pond will grow still

And we?ll fade from the memories

Of the grinding, human mill.


That was just something I fooled around with for a while during a thunder storm the other night... hope you enjoyed it!


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  • 4 months later...

Coincidentally, I was listening to a song called Ripples, from Jerry Garcia et al. the other day.

Hey, your poetry's quite good. One among many, the whole within the one. Keep it up.

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