By Tonny Wandella
Clear but brown
Confined to sprawled banks
Always rolling down hill
Deep as it sinks; even deeper than the sea
Spacious-a glance into space
I see myself in the brown
Not my reflection; a simple section of my soul
In the sun it glows when it’s cold it still trot
Deep into these waters I want to plunge
Hold my breath as I dive
Or deep mine sore feet to be vane
In its cool, I want to feel
To float, am hypnotized to.
The brown flashing as it cascades
Over, between, underneath such rocks
What a splendor, behold a dazzling sight
While I wait the gale to arouse some ripples.
I wonder what rest underneath its queer placidity
Pebbles, swift fish or maligned mystery; this I ponder
As I wander about the flourishing banks
Where soil is supple; its crystals a tingling they give
Brown meanders with grace
Onto floating leaves am compelled to board
But am clueless to where it goes
But I let it take my heart as it flows
Through the jungle and plains and scowling falls
At whatever realm it heads to reside
I journey within
Just to watch where the brown pours
For it surely pacify my nerves.