With some assistance, in comes the river.
Right over the bank, with no resistance.
Blown by wind, it flows right in,
To the parking lot there. It doesn’t care,
If our stuff’s in the way, we have no say.
Nature goes where it wills, and in it fills.
As I watch I am thinking of how we’re so little.
Our greatness so brittle. Both old things and new.
Nature knocks it all down, pushes right through.
“Our greatness so brittle.” Indeed. In so many different ways.
Like the piece, very fluid. 😉
Thanks! I’m trying out a different kind of rhyming here. Writing this piece was like putting together a jigsaw puzzle.
I think about the fact of our smallness a lot. It’s incredible how truly small we are.
Nice one Miss Kitten!
http://charleslmashburn.wordpress.com/2011/09/11/farmers-lament-2/
Thank you, Charles!
yeah, in the planet or outer space, humans are smaller than ants.
divine version, well done.
Happy Poetry Picnic.
Reminds me of the footage of the tsunami hitting Japan.
I have always loved the phrase “resistance is futile” and your poem really captured this.
My entry
http://respectandacceptance.wordpress.com/2011/02/14/you-choose/