REFLECTING

The water need share only its glassiest sheen,

Something, when stilled, it can’t help but do.

The wind need only whisper to the waters below,

to spirit Adam’s ale into a million silent shards.

The sun need but beam through the scintillant blue,

its gay presence undaunted by cloud.

Such as it is, they engage the whole day.

And what is the triumph of this triumvirate play?

Hour upon hour setting water's surface aflare,

each brilliance borne on its own liquid yacht,

careening and cavorting till day becomes dusk,

the sun sashaying away in golden aray,

the wind now winded, calling it a day,

and waters glaze over,

leaden lids stilling once more.

If we could but slow life’s shutter speed

from a million down to one, what would an audit unveil?

Like water, wind and sun, we need do very little;

just sit with our souls, letting our words and their ways

shimmer unfettered before our inner scope

till we see what had earlier passed as mere flash.

Such is the role of reflecting upon our day, our days;

freeing each shapeshifting shard of its wisdom,

re-bestowing upon us luxury lost in an earlier moment;

now returned in the gleaning of meaning.