Amazed By His Own Ripples.... Poem by RIC BASTASA

at night the struggle
is evident.

i did not mind it
i have mine too.

all the days the
struggle continue

working like a buffalo
my body has no time for rest

the night becomes a blessing
i sleep soundly.

the weariness of the body
gives the soul its rewards

you stare at those hours
and go inside of your conscience

now the wee hours of the day
have become furies

what is your mission now?
to hover like a bird on a cloud?

it is hard when you have no ground
to set upon your feet

floating is horrible and being
lost to any direction is a terror

of the mind, of the imagination,
settle down, anchor, steady your boat

if possible leave it, let the storm
bury it, and learn the wisdom of the child

sitting upon a stone throwing a stone
amazed by his own ripples....