This is a heavily revised version of this poem. And thanks are due to a lot
of you guys and gals.
SLOWED DOWN THOUGH HAS NOT STOPPED
The sun still reflects off water where
driftwood lies near the waterline,
or ghoulish, sticks out from the river.
A visual illusion is that movement has stopped
though my eyes and mind still crave to sense
and see the reality of continuing movement.
Apparent calmness before me masks
the conflict between constant change
and permenancy, though the slow current flows,
shows me none of this will remain forever.
Even the water will change with the tide today
and birds that bob upon its surface
become the ancestors of the birds
who will appear with fresh water tomorrow.
bw
James
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