(1948 / OVER 400 POEMS SERVED! !)

The Fountain

In the plaza
I hear the fountain splashing.
In the courtyard
of the plaza
at Todos Santos Park,

I am witness
to the fountain of the soul,
endlessly up-surging,
endlessly creative,
endlessly effervescent.

A fountain inside me
reaches out and shouts
'Brother! ',

for it too
is nestled
as if in a green,
tree-shaded plaza,

in a courtyard
with arched columns
and glazed, ceramic vases,

it too
forever brings
a fresh flow
that cascades
out and down,

and sometimes
I forget.

User Rating: 5,0 / 5 ( 2 votes ) 4

Comments (4)

It is a complicated fountain Max, needing a variety of fuels to drive it, and capable of producing that which we need, want and enjoy most particularly when we commune with other similar fountains, and yip we sometimes forget to value it, even to acknowledge it, but you break it down to its essence here, in these few scrupulously chosen and organised words and phrases. A true pleasure to read and genuinely restorative in itself! jim
Lucid and beautiful! A true delight to read.
A mystical piece Max with lilting images and a fragrant soul. The last couplet brings it all deliciously down to earth and increases its effect on the reader. A wonderful poem. love, Allie xxxx
Yes, as Jim suggests, the last two lines absolutely make this poem.. and make it somehow human. Grand work. t x