Yard Sale of Thoughts

The water has a story yet to be told.

I wait patiently (like the rocks)
to hear part of its tale,
and feel my skepticism erode.

I watch the source strike pose after pose,
cross its legs before it folds
into a grand plié (waist touching toes),
with skillful arc, a trust fall 
between the orange clay of earth 
engraved in sunlight's gold.

Without inhibition, 
the water jetés over the lip,
spray blindfolds,
believing in its footing
and the melting pot 
of droplets
pooled 
somewhere far below,

(though in this mist, chances thrown).

When a stream no longer trickles,
a roar of applause explodes.

While moss and vine cling cliff side,
water resides in a place
 unspoiled by yes and no.

In freestyle, 
wars, religions, even our own reflections
loose focus.

I learn from the great storyteller
to spill a vision,
(write better than myself),
leak ancient wisdom.

Execute grace far above 
the failings of 
my mortal soul.

©2025|K.F.Hartless

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Cover Art: Khao Yai National Park, Nakhon Ratchasima Province, Thailand