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by Logan
Rated: E · Poetry · Philosophy · #2040789
Is your puddle half full or half empty?

Winters never far away
There always will be rain
To fill the hollows where we play
The dips within the plain
Peaks where debris tumbles down
Ignored until the clouds
Light it up and rumble down
Drenching summer shrouds
Valleys flood ‘tween hills that climb
Free of the cascade
Sliding mud massed over time
Ignored in summer shade
Shade no longer well defined
When clouds obscure sun
Conditions, reasoned realigned
The seasons they will run
Stripping peaks of coverage
A warding from the storm
Protection thought a privilege
A right to which they’re born
Whilst down in gullies, rivers gush
Debris from better times
Flowing with the season’s rush
No reasons in the rhymes
Yet nature’s law is not so plain
Its cycles yet unknown
With tors refreshed in tight refrains
And nothing set in stone
As torrents wash the waste away
The nature not sewn down
In history the annuls play
In memory it’s found
Mountains become molehills
Floods condense to pools
Puddles paddled, slight rills
And molehills climbed by fools
With growing up our only sin
We play in lines, confined
Puddles should be jumped in,
and peaks, they should be climbed
© Copyright 2015 Logan (stipey at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2040789