The water has grown cold once again
Food of life is scarce and meek.
In the shade of this rock we shall hide,
Dodging the current, consoling our pride.
Gaining our strength to dart out again,
Into the dark abyss of uncertainty.
Raw and primal, like a cold winter gale,
With brief stays in the night, safe from the hail.
A painter’s brush washed out in our stream
Has clouded the waters, which once ran so green.
How do we interpret this new collogue of chaos?
Laid over serenity, which now seems so lost.
The frost is soon on its way to block out the sun.
To slow all life down, with no where to run.
Shall we wait out this storm, or both flee to cover?
I remember the Spring and a Summer of bliss.
I will hold fast to this rock, patiently awaiting my gin-clear lover!
Jack Dylan 10/29/07
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Jack nice poem I enjoyed it