A sea of endless calm,
As far as the eye can see,
As long as memory can stretch.
Softly,
A ripple runs through
Gently,
The boat rocks
Tentatively,
The slumbering sailor,
stirs.
What is this shifting?
..swishing, ..rolling,
..tossing, ..turning,
..churning?
and in the horizon,
the Eye of the Storm,
approaches…
Disclaimer: I don't know why I feel the need to write a disclaimer. Well, actually, I do. I thought I'd be embarassed at its childish simplicity (mission accomplished: I am). But then I wondered why should I be soo bothered? Let it be. At the very least it is honest.
3 comments:
Not sure how I happened by your blog today, but since I did:
You didn't need the disclaimer.
I, for one, love the poem.
Me too. It's the calm before the calm; the eye of the storm is the safest place to be.
I'm truly gratified, but much too insecure and thoroughly embarassed to say thank you. But that's just me.
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