Reflections in my eye

Ripples became the pond,

and everything gave way.

Green beards swayed gently

aged by winds,

now less than a breeze...

And the swarm of flies,

intolerable

but they are what they are

and will move.

The sun gracefully dances

relfections from its eternal memory,

Calmness disguised,

Hidden in a moments wave,

when the ripples become the pond.

In the completeness of a life it will still.

And simply reflect the bird who once struggled,

The bird that flies.

All reflections in my eye.