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By a Pond

BY A POND

 

1

 

A swan took flight on rustling wings.

The setting sun reflects upon a pond.

Hear the evening silence widening.

 

I sense the slow beat of my

heart, and there’s a sudden quiet

present, spreading everywhere.

 

2

 

The swan is gone. I ponder on my

lingering, earthly existence

slowly drawing to a close, yet here I am.

 

What’s keeping me here? This lonely

heart? Its persistence? My passion?

Swan, where then did you go?

 

3

 

A man stood up, turned around, left.

Far from here, in the bustle of cities, he

recalls how hope rose high one noon;

 

how a far silence overwhelmed him;

how a shadow slanted past his face,

and his future swiftly winged away.

 

By a Pond. Photo of a pond at dusk

Photo by Markus Spiske on Unsplash

In the course of my poetic “career”, I’ve written several poems about ponds. They fascinate me to no end. I remember one summer in the 90s, I’d frequently visit a small, lovely park, Witham Woods, in Fairfield, Iowa to hang out for hours and drink in the scene. I always carried a little note book to jot down new impressions. Actually I would have been able to do without any notebook. Over the years I’ve found out that no matter when or where a new inspiration comes to me, even in the midst of conversations with others, it would always come back to me. As soon as I was back home, it would pour out in my writing a new poem or more.

BY A POND

 

1

 

A swan took flight on rustling wings.

The setting sun reflects upon a pond.

Hear the evening silence widening.

 

I sense the slow beat of my

heart, and there’s a sudden quiet

present, spreading everywhere.

 

2

 

The swan is gone. I ponder on my

lingering, earthly existence

slowly drawing to a close, yet here I am.

 

What’s keeping me here? This lonely

heart? Its persistence? My passion?

Swan, where then did you go?

 

3

 

A man stood up, turned around, left.

Far from here, in the bustle of cities, he

recalls how hope rose high one noon;

 

how a far silence overwhelmed him;

how a shadow slanted past his face,

and his future swiftly winged away.