| Sending Ripples Much like the lily pond the ripples that I send. Each one reaching the outer edge, some following the bend. In the water ripples don't mean a lot, but in life so much more. Each ripple from you that touched someone, will sometimes reach the core. Then when someones had enough, they leave the waters edge. The good ripples may be to late, no matter what you pledged. Some days the water's quiet, not a ripple nor a stir. Shining like a mirror, no longer but a blur. How do you see yourself? Is it good or is it bad? Now you see what you send out, sometimes it is sad. Let them skip and throw their stones, while you send joy and happiness. Remember the ripples can spread inward too, reaping only what you bless. Tears make but tiny ripples, hate brings tital waves. To swamp your raft of life, and to an early grave. The Masked Writer <,.-> (C) 2001 T Lovett |