From the pulpit crag,
the waters rush to the rocks below
where they churn and foam
like Styx boiling.
Dead leaves and broken twigs
and the carcasses of dogs and cat
plunge likewise in the maelstrom,
engulfed by the angry swirl below.
And the waters clash and seethe
against the stuboorn rocks
clipping off their defiance
bit by bit,
in a slow and painless death.
Even the rocks will someday crumble
to the furious persistence
of the waters.
Can I hurl myself
into the swirling depths below
and emerged unscathed,
Teresita V. Guillen taught in UP Los Banos and UP Mindanao. She is also busy with her five dogs and one cat.
One thought on “Reflections Before a Waterfall”
Can someone give a Critique of this poem?☹️