The Tranquil Creek
[A poem triggered by the excellent photograph of Robert Maddox -Herle]
Tranquility reigned on the waters of the creek.
My thoughts lay quiescent.
Silent. Not vibrant.
Brooding.
Like those boats in mid-sail. Languorous.
How I wished my thoughts could ruffle the placidity
of the waters of the creek.
There was a multitude of sounds all around.
“Hello darkness, my old friend”*, someone whispered.
But why? I had never before faced issues of communication.
Was this some sort of an aberration?
Was I in a half-dream state?
Was the mysterious voice out to bait me?
“I’ve come to talk to you again.”*
Yes, yes, please talk
let not silence reign
let garrulity rain, I prayed.
Soon there was a raid of cheerful turbulence in my mind.
The surrounding trees rustled,
as thoughts tussled in my mind.
The boats of my mind also sailed forth,
ruffling the placidity of the waters of the creek.
I think I had got what I had set out to seek.
The creek smiled mysteriously.
We were in a secret communion, you see.
The trees bent low to eavesdrop,
but my mind, a conscientious cop, maintained its integrity.
The boats had started moving again
and the creek had lost its placidity.
Sounds of Silence, [A 1965, Simon and Garfunkel classic, lyrics,
Paul Simon]
Loved this one
ReplyDelete