Glancing at shimmering waters I saw my reflection
Rippling water makes myself look altered
Like an abstract painting that never falters
Glancing at shimmering waters I saw the moon arise
Oh bright angelic wonder, you are so beautiful
Let the stream flow to my peaceful soul
Glancing at shimmering watching water boatmen ski
Smiling at the frog that hunts him down for his tea
Water lilies in full bloom and dancing in the breeze
Glancing at shimmering waters I saw my reflection
The sun admires himself in the mirror of the stream
And I sit at glance at my reflection once again
River’s Journey
She flowed from up there
Rising up and falling down~~~
Over stones and rocks
Excitement carrying her along….
Down and down she came
Carrying water in her bosom
Quenching the thirst
Of all coming her way
Little seeds flourished
Little plants grew
Little animals survived
Little fish swam along
Life was renewed~
All over the plain
Birds came from far and wide
To partake in its bounty
And I waited!!!!!!!!
My whole water body
Tensed in expectation
Awaiting her arrival
And there she was
Gorgeous as the sky above
Rushing towards me
Excitement in the air
I opened my bosom
In she came……
Deep, deep went she
Becoming one with me
And there she rests
After a long journey
Closing her eyes
To a life ,of peace.
Tahera Mannan
03/06/2011
For Constance’s ‘Write me a rippling stream’ contest
Out here watching the water flow by.
Talking to the wind, waiting for a reply.
I don't know what it is about this stream I admire.
Like camping and gathering around watching the fire.
There is something about these inanimate objects.
It maybe the simplicity of beauty it reflects.
How it unconditionally forms over all in its liquidity.
It is the foundation of life being perfect in its ubiquity.
Watching this stream, there is so much to learn and gain.
This water can teach you, watch, as it starts as rain.
High above in the clouds, then it falls to the top of the peak.
As it slowly drips to the bottom, it mixes in with a creek.
It flows in a small brook, then ends up in this stream,
but it will one day rise up again to the clouds, as steam.
Like waters circle of life, we need to come together as one.
The lessons that we've learned here, have only just begun.
***By: Chris Matt
***For Rippling stream contest by P.S Sweetheart
***June 3, 2011
Weiße Seerosen / White Water Lilies / Lotos blancos
Weiße Seerosen
Sie tanzen einen Reigen
Auf dunklem Wasser
White water lilies
They perform a round dance
Over dark water
Los lotos blancos
Ellos bailan una rueda
Sobre el agua oscura
I started out pondering the thoughts how far do I need to walk?
How big will it be?
Do I have to walk up hill the whole way?
Are there spots to stop and take a break?
This better be worth all this hard work!
I have traveled 1.5 miles up a steady incline,
In the white mountains of New Hampshire.
I have come to my destination!
A 75 foot water fall staring at me.
This hike was was well worth the climb after all.
you could hear the echos of the water as it came crashing down.
You could feel the breeze that the spray gave off.
I could not believe what was before my eyes.
How this natural spring just happened,
In the woods of the white mountains.
High up in the mountains where the air is fresh and cool
A bubbling spring flows down into a deep awaiting pool
It’s here the waters start upon their journey clear and long
Thus begins the melody of a wondrous nature song
You can watch the pooling water start on its slow cascade
It moves into a flowing stream that melting snow has made
A little further down the way if you should take a look
The stream joins with the waters of a gently flowing brook
Here the stream and brook combine to graciously deliver
Gifts of pure clean water to a clearly flowing river
The waters of the river move serene and calm at first
Allowing many animals to come and quench their thirst
The water quickly picks up speed as on its way it goes
And you can hear it start to sing as o’er the rocks it flows
The water swiftly flows out to a tall and rocky ledge
Turning into a wondrous sight while tumbling o’er the edge
A beautiful misty rainbow's formed by its falling flight
To see the dancing water is a most impressive sight
You can hear its soft sweet music as it tumbles right along
Singing a lovely chorus of the waters falling song
In January 2007 the fishing trawler, 'Pere Charles'was lost off Dunmore East. Co Waterford,
Ireland, with the loss of five fishermen. I knew four of them, two very well.
Pere Charles
Soft water all quiet
Bubbles of air take last breath
Five souls bid goodbye
Flowing Music
White water tinkling
Exudes musical moments
Hear a perfect peace
Soft Power
Soft flowing water
Creates valley and canyon
Kisses ocean, free
.
Eleven P.M.
Now twelve midnight, two A.M.
Water flows freely
Sleep eludes my eyes
Three A.M., four-thirty, augh, sigh
Water flows freely
As I gaze upon the ocean
Blue reflects on the water and in the sky
The horizon only distinguishable by it's hue
Standing upon a bluff on a cliff above the rough
I gaze upon the ocean with all it's power
Pushing waves hour after hour
The rock face gets battered and pounded
In a un-relentless, timeless beat
The water produces an awesome sound
Almost like a methodical beat
The surf rolls in, and rolls back out again
Foam forms around the surrounding stones
Seaweed floats , swaying with the waves
Along the beach are deposits of shells and driftwood
Above the water line sand dunes form
Resembling a landscape like the moon
Moving with the ever blowing winds
As the tides roll out
Little holes form along the beach
Making a haven for the birds to eat
A feeding frenzy does erupt
Cleaning out the sandy floor
Before the waves arrive once more
I stand in breathless quite
Taking in the ocean's mystery depth.
Water will always be here so blue so crystal clear long after the earth is gone
our ponds our oceans our rivers our lakes will still have it's place long after the
grounds have melted long after the formation of earth has left us
there will always be water the beauty of water will never go away the presence of
water is here to stay long after we are gone water will live on long after our
fish are among the friendly skies there will still be water left here after you and I
Copyright@November2010
Beneath the bay's
frigid waters
life abounds
large fish swim
and green plants grow
Frosty air above ,
movement below
No fisherman here today
the air is too chilly
Let's give our planet a respite
When the waters are
too cold
It is difficult
to live and prosper
Ice water chills
our souls
Yet we will survive
and live on
and our hopes
will live on as well
The ice water home
won't last forever
The frozen lake will thaw
In the meantime
we'll feast on our dreams
Where did the water go, tell me where
The windows of heaven were open
Yesterday the rains fell in flood here
And the thunder shook all heaven
But where did the water go
O where did the water go?
Where did the water go through the sand
Where does it sit among melting rocks
Where does the wind take it from the land
For no boat floats higher from the docks
So where did the water go
O where did the water go?
Where did the water go, there's no cold
To make again the white cliffs of snow
The water is melting, shrinking the pole
The trees are dying, dying so slow
But where did the water go
O where did the water go?
Where did the water go, forests sigh
In the heat of the shriveling sun
Green house gasses seal tightly the sky
Deserts increase, and where shall we run
No place between sand and sea
The water rises from ice steadily
Where did the water go, tell me where
When Noah's flood was gone, and shall it
Again appear since there's a rainbow here
Shall I a steward make men destroy it
The green earth of my faith? O
Say, where did the water go?
Sloe,
and black as Gin
I am the slave
of the spated, sibilant river.
It is opaque and powerful,
panting wearily like a dog.
It waits
and implores me,
to drink the perfumed wet earth
from which its voice emits.
In gasps as muted as wisdom,
I grapple in grated tones
to quench the voices of ancestral hunger,
reciting the names of your Wiccan tale.
And, as of fire
eddies of heat and colour form
turbulent sweet taste,
imminent in their thermal latency,
dark in the discomfort of daytime.
For where there is light, there are shadows too.
In this chaos of burning,
I pray for the violence of weather,
Its elemental desire forms the essence of all memory.
Again and again, I inhale a thousand times
the smoky haze of change
against the image of charred water on charcoal.
I am burnt against the cool of evening,
the darkening sky,
and the beat of flaming water on stone.
It is a visceral vision.
I feel the age,
It is as old as the swans of coole,
as certain as the solitary song of Herbsttag,
as definite as the will of water.
Grassy plains and fields were blanketed by tar
Paved parking lots for vacant malls take their toll
Abuse of resources was taken too far
Ash spews from volcanoes, earthquakes on a roll
Brisk breezes bring relief; sultry, summer days
Be grateful as gentle gusts grace our land
When hurricane winds whip fiercely, homes are razed
An omen we’ve been chastised by nature’s hand
Fire provides comfort on chilly winter nights
But the explosion over Hiroshima
Demonstrates man’s abuse of the atom’s might
Keeping fire, emotions reigned, the dilemma
Water gave birth to our planet’s first life forms
Pollution, man-made disasters now rampant
Sea life endangered as ocean water warms
To preserve them, efforts must be diligent
Though elements withstand ravages of time
Diminishing resources reflect man’s crimes
*For Barbara Gorelick's Earth, Wind, Fire and Water challenge
I wish sometimes that I was a Swan,
Unfortunately, I am not one.
They are so graceful...elegant with elan,
Drifting slowly in God's earthly plan.
The joy of watching them is such fun,
Silently moving 'neath the sun.
And when their gliding on the water is done,
They know their life has just begun.
They are sleek, quiet, and oh so white,
With beaks of black like blackest night.
Their beauty gives one such delight,
When e're they come into our sight.
Swan, Swan, I oft wish how I were you,
Silly isn't it...and yet it is true.
To have their grace on the water so blue,
Paddling along, savoring each moment anew.
Alas, I am a man who can only think of this,
The eloquence of how their swim is so priss.
I could not see a Swan and utter them dis...
Only writing in words to express such bliss.
So, when next you are at their swimming pool,
Be quiet and watch them...be not the fool.
Scare them not, for that is the rule,
Just be silent and enjoy one of God's greatest Jewels.
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