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Mindless Murmur Of A Babbling Brook
The mindless murmur of a babbling brook
Is the telling of it’s story
A story that has no beginning
And flows on without end
It dances…It sparkles
All the while telling it’s tale
E’en when there’s no one to listen
Not family…nor friend
Dabbling and babbling in sprinkles and splashes
Chortling away in mad mischievous delight
Then off to the sea it disdainfully dashes
Spreading rumors and humors into day and night
It gathers in pools, settles in sinks
Yet meanders off distractedly, to left and right
It swells fat and sassy, then as capriciously shrinks
Tinkling musically away into darkness and light
It’s said “there’s method in madness”
The brook knows not…of either one
Not method…not madness…nor glee or sadness
Only capricious, communion with moon and sun
Does the constant, mindless babble
Of it’s unceasing, senseless rant
Give substance to…that it is able
To form cogent thought…or that it can’t?
Could it be that it’s saying, in a moss moistened drawl
In watery discourse, all the while liquid and lazy
“Tis not this brook that is mindless at all
Tis Humanity that’s truly crazy! ! ”
poem
by
David Whalen
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