Waterfall
by Edith Speers
What a wonderful wasteful thing is a waterfall
that gathers the threads of a million springs
that spin them bit by bit so patiently and send them
seeping creeping weeping skeins and webs of fineness feeling
blindly down from secret hidden sources
each droplet tiny as an ant’s egg merging twining into silvery fibres
streaming through the crumbs of earth and stone
with trickle tinkle music pealing through the monster forest
as though the earth itself shed tears as though the rocks themselves could bleed
sending endless tender threads of crystal tendrils
tuneful singers prayerful pilgrims in procession
mercy wrung from heart of stone
drop by drop toward the thundering great unknown
How great and glorious is the waste of waters
pouring down in tons and tons the gathered threads of brightness boiling
tangled hanks of matter weaving into tapestries of matchless pathless passion
patterns tumbling rumbling leaping stumbling seething wreathing
veils and shrouds of greyness heaving up and over boulders’ blackness
lace of silver draping wrapping mossy greenness velvet sopping
mopping up the frayed the splayed the tattered foamy tatting
and gravel churning in the surge the hurling down of formless fabric
silk and satin glossy brown the billows denseness bunching folding
tumbling from the river’s loom that weaves the threads the forest spun
from droplets made of molten spirit
squeezed out eased out one by one
transparent tears of mercy blood of stone
How joyous boisterous is this greatness
nothing sparing spendthrift splurging surging
roisterous waters hurling headlong lifelong hymn song
roaring whirling out and over stony ledges spouting through the river’s edges
pouring down in grand abandon glassy columns crashing crushing into clouds of spray
forsaking earth but never breaking slaking thirst for godly greatness grinding fine as grit
the millstone myths of human history every second of every minute of every day
pouring down in priceless beauty spuming spewing clouds of froth and foam enduring
made of nothing never toiling timeless blameless shameless roiling waste of waters
casting down cascades of glory rising up in clouds of diamond
shouting down with chants of triumph every whisper cautious warning
rising up with life’s own laughter rainbow blessings
every second of every minute of every day
Edith Speers grew up in Vancouver, Canada. In 1974 she emigrated to Australia where she established herself as a widely published and prize-winning poet with two collections of verse.