Untitled (Travels?) Poem by Ronald James de Langen

A racous roar the water before,
The loneliness of it out of it pour.
Down the cascades wave after wave,
Swirling and twirling sorrow unstaved.
Crashing and bruising ‘pon rocks below,
The soul of another not will it know.
Curling the eddies no mercy it gives,
A froth of my love survives, not lives.
Ages a’caught with nothing to see,
Whirlpool of thoughts unsteadily.
A tree of outstretched root seen.
A focus, toward it the mind doth lean.
Grasp and reach for substance of hope,
Branching of feelings; only to cope.