A penny-thin pebble presses smoothly
Into my palm, the cool liquid chink,
Stirs feelings of a time of calm,
Mist stands delicate on a mirror,
Reflecting waves of flowing foliage,
My feet crunch softly in the still air,
Our voices echo dimly, in the grey veiled silence.

A flash, the stone flickers across the surface,
Water, rock, air, unite in fluid purpose,
Dying in a moment, silent ripples mark
A fading memory, the stone sinks into the dark.

The busy rush of plastic life passes coldly over me.

My mind settles down, into the restful deep,
As the stone sinks down, silently I keep,
The peace of long still water, this is automatic,
Skimming stones, between the fizz of static.