Voice of the Waters

Awed, standing on the brink
amid the canorous roar,
I hear spoken the
power of creation.

The face of the cliff seems
changeless, yet changes
every moment of every day.

Tangled roots of
mammoth trees cling
to the banks with tenacity
only nature can give.

Amid the granite boulders, and
boiling fury of white water,
fish thrive, and travelers
cool their parched tongues.

I shiver in the chill, and
draw in the cool vapors,
tasting the rock,
worn away one mote at a time.
in relentless onslaught.

I shudder in realization;
how very small and frail
is my part in this great oration.
Only to behold, wonder and
to be amazed.

Dallas DS'Angelo-Gary 08