Daughters of the Waterfall

Though some are short and some are tall
     And some of middle size,
The daughters of the waterfall
     Are giants in my eyes.

I love the freedom of their souls
     As, gathered in their glory,
They carry water in clear bowls
     And weave their changing story.

The animals both large and small
     Who congregate near by
Are not afraid to heed their call
     To share a midnight sky.

The daughters are a moving sight
     Composed of liquid lines,
Accentuated by the light
     That filters through the pines.

Their memories are long and old,
     Encompassing the past
When all the land was frozen cold,
     When seas were deep and vast.

The daughters of the waterfall
     Will come for me, I pray,
When I'm no longer in the thrall
     Of mortal work and play.

©2016 Michael Fraley

Back to Poem-O-Rama