"Tides"
Tides rise to the high sky
and return when too high
Noon flames rage across hilltops
but mellow to ash at dusk
The green leaf repels the wind's wild muscles
but bow to breeze when yellow
So with my elderly neighbour who,
hounded by his power-packed spouse,
hurries his evenings on the wings of an
old Sunday Times in his untiring verandah.
You hear no roar from him
no sudden crackling of electronics
no pipe-bursting thunder
all is calm and the calm is all.
Daily, the henpecked's evening creed rings:
silence is the way where muscles will not pay,
What's the use of power? What's the use?
There is beauty in calm.
Truly yours,
@samueloption
[Image Source: pixabay.com]