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Thread: Ninth Poem Of The Zookopolis

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    Senior Member Zook_e_Pi's Avatar
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    Ninth Poem Of The Zookopolis

    Transcending Time

    In the bottom of mugs
    in the warmth of hugs
    in the sprint at breakneck speeds
    time is stilled
    like a ton on a hill
    a big granite stone
    with specks of quartz and bone searching
    for the rescuing breeze
    to lift it from its clay moorings
    and roll it gently down the oblique:
    a waft, a wind gust, a vortex,
    or perhaps a butterfly flapping miniature beginnings
    into a grand chaos theory,
    such are the hidden ambitions
    of soft clement wings.

    Uncle Zook

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