a pebble
d
r
o
p
s
into
the crystal-clear mirror
of nature....
gone
after a sudden disruption.
the surface of the stream
reveals
an unspoken wish.
a circle
w i d e n s,
e x p a n d i n g
as though bursting
into flames,
pressing against
the quietness
of the water's surface,
the water holds
whispering
of unwhisperable secrets.
without a tempo
leading its way
without a beat
to command it.
lily pads d r i f t
over the stream
shadows reflecting
the movement of a clear day.
no track to follow,
no reason or why.
outwardly,
and outwardly,
the edge of stream
grows thin,
the starting point
where the line
originally started,
a pulse and silence...
as the water
recedes from sight,
a ripple
with no rhythm
being engulfed
in the darkness.
What is a ripple
without its rhythm?
a ripple is an echo seen,
an echo is a ripple heard,
a scent is an echo breathed,
a taste is an echo swallowed,
a crease is an echo touched,
a shimmer is an echo lit,
a shadow is an echo left,
a tremor is an echo felt.
strings hum when plucked,
bells ring when struck,
silence quivers
to reveal its glimmers
want listens for faint echoes of memories
pulsing in the hollow spiral chamber
of an empty conch shell.
A stone dropped in a lake
Is never just a stone
It’s a message sent outward
A consequence unfolding
A story written in widening rings
We act
The world answers
We hesitate
The world answers
Even silence has a sound
When it echoes long enough
A kindness given today
Might bloom in someone else’s tomorrow
A careless word
Might bruise a heart we never see
A choice avoided
Might open or close doors we didn’t know existed
The water remembers everything
The weight of our decisions
The shape of our intentions
The tremble of our fears
Every ripple
Gentle or jagged
Moves outward into lives
Into futures
Into moments we’ll never witness
We stand at the shoreline
Holding our stones
Not knowing whatever we release
Travels farther than we can imagine
In this truth
Lies both the danger and beauty
Of being human
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A stranger buys coffee for the man
whose hands tremble counting pennies~
the warmth lingers past the last sip,
carrying him to the bus stop,
where he lifts a suitcase
for the woman balancing an infant.
She smiles all the way home,
slices extra sandwiches
for the neighbor’s kids
whose mother works doubles.
The neighbor, grateful,
mends the fence
for the old widow next door,
who now tends her garden
with less ache in her knees.
Months later,
the same stranger
finds his tire changed
in the rain
by hands he doesn’t recognize—
but the rhythm of kindness
is familiar.
Accompanying memoir vignettes can be found at: poetrysoup.com/short_stories/an_angel_in_blue_scrubs_13589
or
poetrysoup.com/short_stories/the_poor_little_matchstick_girl_13580
o
n
e >
> r~i~ p~p~l ~e. ~ ^ n i
~ d ~a ^ c ^ n ^ g f~l~o~a
^. ^ ^ l ^ e~a~f……
c i~n~g t ^
^ ^ ^. ^
r~a~d~l i~n~g
. .
one ripple
dancing cradling~
floating leaf…
We were once rivers,
braiding through each other’s lives,
carving valleys of shared wonder.
Now we float in bubbles,
soft-walled sanctuaries of sameness,
drifting past one another
with eyes turned inward.
The more we seal our edges,
the less we feel the ripple,
of another’s breath.
It was just a quiver—
a tiny vibration in the pattern,
seen as a small break in the display.
A sound that had no clear cause.
A flash of light, sudden and sharp.
A shadow that drifted on its own.
It's the cracks that let the light in,
if we notice them—
and stay open to awe and belief.
We are taught to mistrust the strange,
to fear what doesn't fit.
To label the unfamiliar, unusual
things that occur
as flaws in the system.
We cling to the idea that
everything must have a logical
explanation in the real world.
This shrinks our capacity to imagine,
to be creative.
Drip, drip, drip,
Did I just slip?
Need to catch my grip,
And enjoy this trip,
As I watch my,
RIPPLE EFFECT,
Dropping into reality,
Like pebbles to the sea.
Such a small body,
In such a large entity.
Stretching endlessly,
Throughout Etrernity,
Here,
To start a new journey
Feeling so nervous,
Crashing to the surface.
Splashing with purpose,
Each drop a service,
No effort is worthless.
No proof of purchase
Needed,
To enter this circus.
Our breath is subject,
To the ripple effect.
The waves go unchecked.
The crests reflect,
Our best aspect.
Constant tests direct,
To perfect,
A whole new contest.
lucent glow
of longing
turns into
spring-suffused
exuberant spectrum
paints fresco
of floral splendor
on canvas
of my chromatic life
flamboyant
on arid
cinnamon ground
auburn despair
creeps furtive
like silent sigh
in wilted veins
of fallen leaves
rustling frail
serenades sanguine
evergreen tune
of hope
in the last crawl
desolate
eyes weep
unseen tears
in torrent
fill cauldron
of pining pathos
while
forlorn life’s
lingering element
of emerald essence
remains like
lone
defoliated tree
in wasteland
of broken banks
of denuded mind
isolated
cadence of symphony
of fervent zephyr
adrift from
yonder plateau
of yearning
glides on
waves of desire
in lagoon heart
pulsates
with ripples
of rhapsody
in bay of bliss
innate
Written: February 26, 2024
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Whilst an ivory sky, my mast ignite.
As tidal waves flicker in sparks that gleam.
Igneous scarlet pyres still blazing night.
The amber sparks hover in swooping sight.
Amid thunder, boisterous shivers scream.
Whilst an ivory sky, my mast ignite.
The limestone chunks resemble carved calcite.
With furnace flames in phosphorous agleam.
Igneous scarlet pyres still blazing night.
As I gaze upward, pitch and haze relight.
Steadfast, I plunge where evil spirits teem
Whilst an ivory sky, my mast ignite.
Rancid stench of the city stinks of blight.
Above lagoons, as muddy smog or steam.
Igneous scarlet pyres still blazing night.
A phoenix amidst the fire, set alight.
overhauled from ashen sidle, wings' dream
Whilst an ivory sky, my mast ignite.
Igneous scarlet pyres still blazing night.
A ripple in time creased and folded like an origami pleated neatly in my heart
Feb 19 2023
A Ripple To Me 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: JCB Brul
A gentle wind can make a latent ripple on a turbulent sea.
February 20, 2023
A Ripple To Me 2 Poetry Contest (2nd place)
Sponsored By: JCB Brul
go beyond high tide become overwhelmed in lows ~ all ripples plateau
A Ripple To Me 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: JCB Brul
Howmanysyllables 17
02/19/23
A ripple of fear disturbed the birds, sounds of war exploding on earth.
~ ~ ~ ~
19th February 2023
A Ripple To Me 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: JCB Brul
"our life is fleeting like a ripple in a stream- click click is time's clock"
________________________
February 18, 2023
Poetry/Monoku/A Ripple In Time
Copyright Protected, ID 02-152-319-18
All Rights Reserved, 2023, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, A Ripple To Me 2
sponsor, JCB Brul, Judged 02/20/2023
First Place
Sub Categories
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