Niagara Falls Poem by Bernard F. Asuncion

The roar, a constant thunder,
not of a storm passing,
but a presence, always.

Green water, a deceptive calm before the plunge.
A lip, vast and unforgiving,
relinquishing its hold.

Then the white fury,
a churning, frothing chaos,
swallowing light and sound.

Mist rises, a constant veil,
kissing skin, dampening air,
a rainbow promise
when the sun dares to break through.

The ground trembles, a subtle vibration,
a reminder of the immense power
unleashed, endlessly.

Tourists gawk, small figures
against the immensity,
awe etched on their faces.

Nature's raw, untamed heart, pouring itself out,
a spectacle that humbles,
a force that endures.