Waterfall

A poem exploring the state of matter and pondering the idea of the human soul.

From the bottom looking up it seems

A great awe and wonder.
The water on rock falls in streams.

Making a sound like thunder.

First, a smooth rolling overhead.

Then some kind of free fall.
It looks to be over, instead,

Water's journey is stalled.

Three rocks hinder the waters voyage.
Around and over these the water splits.
The rocks, a sturdy threesome of buoyage.
Once segregated, the water then hits
The stone bottom. The barrage never quits.

It is there where all its mystery lies.
The water turns to mist with its deep cries.

First it was clear, the water fell.
Then, solid it hit, but take note,
After falling you couldn’t tell,
But the water then seemed to float.

If water could seem to hover

And choose its final goal.
What if then, we could discover

The same can apply to the soul.