The Pond

The surface of my pond
blames no one
it simply supports the air
and reflects the storm
I carry it with me
to ease my worries
I dip my hand in and
the lilies strum.

In my pond I stand
up to my waist
halfway in and out
of biotic space
drugs are green and pills are
pellets of manna
it is round as a hill but
down in the ground.

If you sit at the edge
your ears hum
if you put your legs in
they are enlightened
once you reach the bottom
it is so slippery
that you will wonder
why you are frightened.

When others ask me
why I go overboard
I say without the
shadow of a doubt
the god of carp in mud
is a colorful lord
the most religious luxury
I can afford.

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About mrsorenson

all over the place
This entry was posted in poem, poetry, song and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to The Pond

  1. huzaifazoom says:

    And here are a few lines from Wang Wei (The Green Stream) I read a short while ago that resonate:

    I have always been a lover of tranquillity
    And when I see this clear stream so calm
    I want to stay on some great rock
    And fish forever on and on.

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