Poem: Of The Waterfall

I stood on the rocks of Raymondskill Falls in northeastern Pennsylvania, having climbed a fence blocking my way. There I was, alone, only a few feet to the right of the falls below and a simple stone's throw away from the falls in the picture shown. There I stood, with poetry pad, pen and my thoughts. I looked at the amazing power of the falls, and noticed a trickling stream of water along the left-hand side that flowed alone, its own way, until meeting again at the calmed pool of its destiny. And so I wrote ...

* One should read this poem as follows: For verses 1 through 4 and 7 read normally. For verses 5 and 6, alternate lines from the left (metaphor) and the right (literal). Performing this piece requires two people.

Of the Waterfall

Power-filled, majestic waterfall,
Strength built,
In time spilt.

Eroded, beaten rockied walls,
Stripped away,
Years’ decay.

Busied paths, descending bodies,
All as one,
Since dawn’s begun.

Two secluded, gentle streams apart,
Trickle down alone,
Their own path known.

Who I am in truth imparted, ---------Flowing through diverted routes,
This is me, -------------------------------Slowly strewn,
Least how I see. --------------------------Paralleled, in tune.

Passing by the beaten track, ----------To be found once more in opened pools,
Quiet defined,----------------------------Back in whole,
With peace of mind. ---------------------Having served its role.

Replaced to subtly coexist,
No persona lost,
Just water tossed.

Copyright SGW 1997