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A Mental Walk: For the throwers of Stones

Politely burbbled the tiny stream
Not wishing to disturb the woods around
whispering quiet ramblings,
like ladies over cups of tea
I took this in from loamy ground
A perfect pretty dream
I felt the need to stroll along
and refill the peace that lived in me

Earthy air dampened breath
with scents, fresh and clean
As the water made its slow descent
I walked along, a pleasant pace
to where I'd never been

"So small" I thought about myself
humbled by unsullied imagery
these eyes before had never spied
Down a shelf, through the trees
I lived inside my little dream
Politely burbbled the tiny stream
heading for the ocean side

Deep drop!.......farrrr below.
carved away by years of talk
I stood upon a mossy ledge
a stalemate in my walk
The waters walked
and the waters talked
I was left to dream
far above the far below
where loudly yelled,
the little stream

Upon the edge.
By itself
near the center of the flow
not knowing death at precipice
A fragile flower grows
"It is as I." To myself, I thought
not knowing of its end
but far more beauty did it posess
than this sinful natured man

I took it in. All that I saw
Understanding what I'd thought.
I took a breath, turned around
returning from my walk...
A slightly better man

R Andrews
10 21 14
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Submitted on October 24, 2014

1:10 min read

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    "A Mental Walk: For the throwers of Stones" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2021. Web. 30 Jul 2021. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/64525/a-mental-walk:-for-the-throwers-of-stones>.

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