Thoughts on a Capillary Wave

I

Unbroken crystal waters dancing still
And silent in the darkness, 'cept the tone
Of gentle waves which stroke the sloping hills

Of makeshift shores. Upon this bank, alone
I watch the wanton waters in their waltz,
disturbing them by means of tossed stone;

An instant later doth it bear it's faults
And i look on as ripples start their plague,
Their futile journey through the azure salts

II

The impact severs being from the rock
The shell may sink, but revenant remains
To look upon the tremors of it's shock.

Beholdeth what, but atmospheric strain?
A slight distortion in the faintest view,
Irrelevant in this perspective's pane;

What does it care beyond the present, who
Should bear the burden of things yet to come?
Before it's sound, why should it's echoes rue?

III

I am the hem of crystal, watch me glide
Along the glassy surface without care
Or worry of what sleeps on coming tides

I am a choice, with gentle steps i tear
Through time and space with naught a fleeting thought
Of purpose, naught the pangs of when and where

Do plague my mind; i never am distraught
By queries of existence, who would dwell
In matters left behind whilst in advance?

IV

Only from above is it revealed
The irony, incessant in the flow
Of thought as men attempt to justify
The passing days as ripples on a lake;
“Before it's sound, why should it's echoes rue?”
“In matters left behind whilst in advance?”
Perhaps the only truth is in the way
In which the echoes slowly fades to black.