Lead Me to the Pond
May 4, 2020
(2 min read)
(2 min read)
Memories float around,
how many people’s lives
tangled by every stream.
The fish pop out but are
yet they continue on
with their nameless moments
of sparkle, each wondering her
worth. Tell me, O Pond,
after collecting tears and sweat for years,
witnessing generations of inquiry,
am I worthy?
The provider of life- the god to many,
preach to me, have you ever felt fear of
imperfections amongst your
waves of memories?
Or the yearning for proof
of your value?
The eternity of adolescents
that once had their dreams
inscribed in this water live out
their lives trying to justify
the worth that they were already born with.
Perhaps they reflected in the currents
their values derived from fears
of invisibility, beside the fish that
suffers the same fate.
Would she fade knowing
she’d tried clasping something inherent,
roaming away her time only to grasp that
she had drained her own pond? Or maybe,
you, O Pond, have been filled by the
futile grind for validation
when it already exists.
Or the cycle continues,
more fish come over and
strive for ripples towards confirmation,
though you simply observe the generations passed
with no emotion or prejudice.
You let regret fill you and
still pass life to the next.
But please lead me to your fountain,
show me an end to this whirlpool,
and rescue that aimless fish from
these endless ways.
Then, in your final lesson,
Tell me, O Pond,
that each of us is worthy.