The Still Pond's Echo

Mind's a still pond, so dark and deep, Where ripples spread, while shadows sleep, And thoughts, like pebbles, softly fall. Silence holds clamor in its thrall, When the world lets it start to creep, When vast wisdom begins to sweep The pool of sense, it's time to reap, Ideas run, never to crawl, Mind's a still pond. No hasty judgment, truths to keep, A mirrored surface, secrets leap, But patient searching, standing tall, Views, like fishes, live big or small, Reasons, like water, quench each leaf, Mind's a still pond. ©bfa022825