EVERLASTING

By Gail Fulkerson

Waterfalls
Roaring,
Falling to their deaths
Over dangerously high cliffs,
Crashing into deep pools
Of roiling water below.
The initial shockwaves
Are calamities
Contained
Within a small space.
There is no escape
From the powerful surges
Of waters rising
From the depths of the pool
To meet the waters falling.
There is no time for breathing.

The crazy waters race away
Down channels
Long traversed,
Cutting ever deeper
Into rock
As it flows onward.
Nothing escapes
The power
Of water.Whether by drop,
Stream, rivulet,
Or torrent,
Water is constant,
And will not be refused
For long.
The Aeons say it is so.

Did you know
That water is a metaphor
For our emotions?
The old saw,
‘Still waters run deep”
Comes to mind.
An outwardly calm exterior,
Cultivated over decades,
Adept at
Submerging and anchoring
The richness and flavour
Of emotions,
In depths immeasurable.
A tiny tremor,
A stirring of silt,
Disturbs the bottom

Of the
Immaculate ocean.
Battle stations
Ready.
The disturbance
Must be contained
And neutralized
Before it can
Reach the surface
And leave a crack or
Crevasse
In the calmness above.
Should that happen,
No amount of
Damage control
Will repair the rift.
Scars are everlasting,
And not all of them
Can be seen.