Still waters for GailMac Woman sits Alone on lake's edge. Mallard swims up, meets her gaze. She throws out brown rice Remembering. Then stands up Holds out upturned hands “No more rice for you today” Duck quacks amiably Swims away. -MW |  Still Waters Stiff legged heron Stands on the still lake, watching Waiting patiently Looks down, ducks its head Brings up a large flopping fish On a Winter day. -MW |
Timeless Flow
| Green sprouted through deep rich earth, Mothers everywhere gave birth. Peace was again at hand And the river ran. Children played wild and carefree ‘Neath the leafed-out apple tree Heedless of the treaty ban. Still the river ran. Drying leaves began to fall, Geese flew south with mournful call. Cold discord crept through the land. Yet the river ran. Came wan winter ice and snow, Friend and brother were now foe. Clashing armies took their stand. But the river ran. Then the darkest longest night, Pale moon but a ghostly white, By a heedful few a cry was heard, A whispered voice, a hopeful word. Hope sprang forth from fountainhead Fresh air breathed life from the dead. Rose bloomed in the snowy land And still the river ran. -MW Just for fun: Píccola opening presents on Christmas Day. | The Paradox of Reality Everything comes and goes, Reality's in constant flux, Or as Heraclites Of ancient Greece opined: Being is becoming! Change What is, is constantly in flux, And change is good or bad or both. Good change gives more than it takes, Bad change takes more than it gives. Change both good and bad does both. It always is a give and take, Such is the nature of all things. We Are All is ever changing, But nought is ever lost. We are what was and will be, A wondrous present moment, Changeless changing beings! -JM Droplets of Wisdom We know time in timelessness and multiplicity in oneness. There are big fish and small fish even in the smallest of ponds. We are but pulsating specks in the big pond of life. To laugh or weep, the choice is yours. The present reflects the past and anticipates the future. To remember is a precious mixture of joy and grief. Reality is a changing constancy. -JM |