Force That Gently Wanders (Poetry)

~ Force That Gently Wanders ~

 

 

Entwined with imaginary traces,

Of silver mysteries,

An inertia bred within black fire,

Beneath the raging water,

Of death.

 

Entwined with silver tendrils,

The pearlescent skin,

Of a death-defying,

Stoic woman bearing a strait carriage,

Tall and proud is she, while-

She quietly and cleverly,

Yet unobtrusively and gently,

Wards off the weak ones, with eyes of blue stalactites,

So that . . .

The water’s rage subsides,

And the trees stop swaying,

While the wind finally dies,

But-

Who is she?

 

No one could fathom,

Yet we are always kept wondering . . .