by B Miles Jackson
The stream is quiet now,
He's still there.
Though the water's muddy now,
He's still there.
No noise, no cry, no laughter, no tears,
He's still there.
A wading pond, still blooms, flowering,
He's still there.
The babbling brook looks hopeful now,
He's still there.
Wading water, clearing, streaming down,
He's still there.
Motion, movement, healing a new,
He's still there.
The perfect flowers gone for now,
He's still there.
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ABOUT THE POET ~
Barbara B-Miles Jackson, born in 1948, grew up in Texas, studied poetry as a student in school. The poetry of other poets inspired me to go forward, changing myself when I could not change my situation. I one child and two grandchildren., Later needing a way of expression and focus, I turned to writing poems. Writing reminds me, we must travel through life situations with as much grace and dignity as possible., I started writing in 1995 for an Open Poetry Contest with National and International Library of Poetry. Most In the US and other in Europe.
Last updated April 22, 2015