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
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