The Silent Waterfall

On this grassy meadow where daisies look mellow, I'm watching the silent waterfall, which splashes its clear waters on rocks that never feel sun-rays, or cool winds. Looking above, the bright color of the spring sky seems to reflect the fall's constant and misty flow... I look closer, its hard to make a distinction between the two...they add to the beauty of creation. Try to imagine its origin, snowy peaks melting, forming rivers precipitating down steep elevations, to gush into the atmosphere's mildness... causing sprinkles, similar to rain, that feel pleasant to the skin. Jet planes fly over this silent waterfall, and it can be seen from far as if it were a huge tidal surf breaking up into thin air... to become tiny bubbles floating upward, to only fall downward and explode in a weary blast and disappear. Many summer evenings I sat on this lush grass, and watch the silent waterfall descend on moss-infested boulders... to lose myself in its magnificence, and convincingly attest to the powerful forces that make my afternoons so pleasant and special. Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci