tommyboy487
06-15-2005, 07:51 AM
The ice breaks,
As you introduce,
And the sun
Penetrates where possible,
Sadistically trying to
Abolish a perfectly
Symmetrical formation.
Then, as the water
Trickles, and slowly
Leaves it’s home,
You sit by me,
And we sit alone.
You smile, and
The drips become
More frequent; pronounced;
Obvious.
The moisture continues
To fuse; to leave.
A naturally chosen
Meeting place, and
As a miniature,
Nearly invisible ravine
Forms, I open to you.
The depth of the stream,
Increasing, Meanwhile,
The shallowness of
My attitude
Towards you, lost.
And my person is revealed.
Stream to river,
Now deeper; wider.
Pools form,
As I learn,
And when you
Touch me, a
Vigor is noticed,
Followed by a white,
Intricate film.
A million bubbles,
Moving at random,
Represent my thoughts.
A crocus and a rose,
Populate the riverside.
A tranquility, luring
Marveled creatures,
Portrays a river
Molded to perfection.
But under the surface,
A conflict;
An uncertainty;
A fear, of
What is to come.
I surface,
Again.
And see you,
It crosses my mind:
“What do I want”.
Just as the water, overflowing generously,
Begins its fall.
The freedom of falling.
No more feelings,
That are mixed.
And it’s what I want.
Falling.
Faster; Further.
What happens next,
Won’t change the now.
Will this river,
Join a sea,
Flood the land,
Or simply,
Evaporate,
Leaving nothing,
But a deprived;
Starving riverbed.
Dry, cracked, and lonely.
With what I’ve learnt,
I float on with you.
Towards an unknown,
A destination that seems
Important, but takes
Pleasure in deception.
This journey means more.
This journey,
That is just beginning,
Even though we find ourselves
Here,
So far from the source:
A mass of ice,
Cracked and melted,
But unchanged,
To all eyes but yours.
-Thomas Fox
As you introduce,
And the sun
Penetrates where possible,
Sadistically trying to
Abolish a perfectly
Symmetrical formation.
Then, as the water
Trickles, and slowly
Leaves it’s home,
You sit by me,
And we sit alone.
You smile, and
The drips become
More frequent; pronounced;
Obvious.
The moisture continues
To fuse; to leave.
A naturally chosen
Meeting place, and
As a miniature,
Nearly invisible ravine
Forms, I open to you.
The depth of the stream,
Increasing, Meanwhile,
The shallowness of
My attitude
Towards you, lost.
And my person is revealed.
Stream to river,
Now deeper; wider.
Pools form,
As I learn,
And when you
Touch me, a
Vigor is noticed,
Followed by a white,
Intricate film.
A million bubbles,
Moving at random,
Represent my thoughts.
A crocus and a rose,
Populate the riverside.
A tranquility, luring
Marveled creatures,
Portrays a river
Molded to perfection.
But under the surface,
A conflict;
An uncertainty;
A fear, of
What is to come.
I surface,
Again.
And see you,
It crosses my mind:
“What do I want”.
Just as the water, overflowing generously,
Begins its fall.
The freedom of falling.
No more feelings,
That are mixed.
And it’s what I want.
Falling.
Faster; Further.
What happens next,
Won’t change the now.
Will this river,
Join a sea,
Flood the land,
Or simply,
Evaporate,
Leaving nothing,
But a deprived;
Starving riverbed.
Dry, cracked, and lonely.
With what I’ve learnt,
I float on with you.
Towards an unknown,
A destination that seems
Important, but takes
Pleasure in deception.
This journey means more.
This journey,
That is just beginning,
Even though we find ourselves
Here,
So far from the source:
A mass of ice,
Cracked and melted,
But unchanged,
To all eyes but yours.
-Thomas Fox