Poetry

Pinnacle

Reaching, always reaching –
Touching the surface is not enough.
Looking for hidden meaning, swirling depths.
The current runs slowly,
But never ceases.
Staring in the pool,
Seeing the reflection.
What remains?
The gloss of sunlit sparkle,
As an echo in a dream.
Reality not fleeting,
Enfold me in its waves.
– RG

%d bloggers like this: