Sunday, February 6, 2011

The Fountain

It drains and it drains...                                                                
And it flows and it flows...
The mouth imperceptibly protruding
Opening nowhere and yet everywhere.
The streams overflow
And splash and crash
Dropping ambitiously and generously on the next onlooker's skin.
Beads of droplets and mildew staining
What appears to be the unidentifiable layer
Not to be touched
Not to be dared
Epidermis and all.
What waters creak from this fountain?
Elusive and caring
The grays, the marbles, the silhouettes
Gaunt and disturbed
Shall be quenched
By the Everlasting Thirst.

4 comments:

  1. A bright mornig to you, Friend!
    Excellent way to start the day...could it be a fountain of life? Your poem reminds me of some words from Rumi that I just read...
    "My lips got lost on the way to the kiss - that's how drunk I was." (He was speaking of his love for God) :) Amen!

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  2. great descriptors of th fountain...i like to sit and listen to it burble...

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  3. Good Morning Jean... the imagery I started writing about was the Fountain of Youth...and then somehow it transformed into the Fountain of Life...good way to start the day!

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  4. Brian...it's an everlasting burble...keep listening!

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