© Jerry Langdon 2023
This placid pond where subtle winds blow;
Where the quiescence drifts over still surface;
Where my mind can rest and my heart re-grow
Has become a feral sea where waves race.
I can nolonger let myself burdenlessly drift.
Fighting to stay afloat, hoping I don't capsize.
Wearily struggling not to be cast to the rift.
Praying to soon see more promising skies.
The waves pound; beating down on me;
So visciously trying to swallow me
As if I were the center of gravity;
They crash down around me.
This quiet pond where I would go
Where the only waves were a skipping stone.
This place where I could let thoughts flow
Where I would be heart and soul alone.