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By J
The undulated waves of daily dribble
Left little to drool, except for a little spittle.
It seemed as though nothing had been met,
Each step bent and wept at being left,
Until those taken aside saw the rise,
Watching with eyes open wide.
At first by one but then by two and three.
Meeting more than there had to be.
By dashing and dancing,
And skipping and prancing,
The numbers grew in leaps unbound
Touching those all-around
By seeing and being
All that they had found.
Together, one to all,
Like the casual fall
Of leaves on a tree,
They picked up their fleeting feelings
And dined in the once dark and dim light
From the glum that had become bright.
Upon the catching of a call
To stop a dripping and dropped wall,
The sun torched what had happened
And all that was wet had been forgotten
And, as it touched through the day
In a magnanimous way
Each city, village and town
Raised their voices to the clouds
And sang songs and sounds
So profound, that they were heard
Even by those time has turned.
