The Tranquil Stripe
Poem By Frederick Francis
There is a tranquil lingering stripe
Slicing down the centre of the river.
All around there is rippling motion.
Scrutinize it, there’s not even a quiver.
But a sly creature that stripe sure is.
He holds a secret: He’s violently churning.
The calm surface keeps the secret his;
The stiff lip preventing others from learning.
A current in one direction will
Gently ripple the waters face.
Multiple opposing currents running
The gentle ripples they’ll erase.
The stripe where the river is calm
Is the point where the trouble is most.
On the surface you’d think nothing wrong.
“I’m so tranquil” the stripe will boast.
The ripples chat with one another
All wishing to be in the stripe of calm
They don’t see what moves beneath;
Only the harmony for which they long.
The stripe declares the calm is the worst.
Ripples deafened by admiration of his tranquil curse.
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