thoornstra
Infinite
I pause now to consider
how these shining waters
reveal all things above, below,
in the earth and in the sky,
if any has the eye
to read the secret alphabet
which the wind describes:
The intricate cross-hatchings
of tiny wavelet-ripples
pulsing toward the riverbank,
equally reflected back
to meet those coming in;
fluid geometric rhythms,
patterns without beginning
or end…
Shimmering infinities,
rhythmic-clashing symmetries
mirroring so faithfully
the spirits of the sky.
And I contemplate
how each stone is speckled
in shadow and light;
how each one is like
a separate painting,
its own color-palette world.
And I delight
in the endless shades of green
and yellow in the trees,
the sheer variety,
the multitude of leaves
flashing over me:
near-infinity.
Yet, if any one of these
falls,
you know of it.
Infinite…
shadow upon shadow,
light upon light,
these interwoven, delicate
miracles flashing
in the sun and wind;
these stones, these ripples,
this Creation without end!