Chipped Crimson Toes

I submerge my chipped crimson toes

In the lethargic, lazy river.

Slowly, I slide the rest of my feet

Followed by my ankles, then my shins

Into the icy cool water.

 

A swift smile lands on my cheeks

Like a swallow landing on the branch of a tree.

There one instant, gone in the next.

The ghost of a grin still haunts my features

As I kick my feet, splashing the clear water halfway across the creek.

 

Each and every miniscule molecule of water

Joyfully dances across my feet,

'Round my ankles, and through my toes.

Each and every pebble rejoices

In being the foundation of such a majestic stream.

 

And then I think...

Yes, yes I know-

Thinking is such a dangerous thing-

Yet I still succumb to the temptation,

And I begin to ponder.

 

If the swallow can be content, the water,

Even all the pebbles,

If all of these creations can be content

By simply being,

Then can't I, too?

 

Can't I pursue that which I dream,

That which I enjoy most

Whether I am methodically filling a blank journal

Full of ink and ideas

Or even just sitting here forever and ever with my toes in the water?

 

This world which I call home can be a harsh place

Full of war, death, and famine.

Yet if we accept life as it comes, if we are content to simply be,

Then we can manage to find the flower in the desert,

The safe haven in the storm.

 

And so I slowly submerge my chipped crimson toes

In the lethargic lazy river. 

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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