Roger Singer

A stirring within the water.

A pattern of signatures overwhelming

the passage of a turbulent surface.

Consequences foretold.  The opening of

truth is not always accepted.  Hands cut

from stone, granite facts, like swimming

underwater against strong currents.

 

A mirror becomes the vestibule of confessions,

releasing waves of who we thought we

might be and the reality of how we truly exist;

we change like seasons, pressing forward with

labored breathing.

 

We are then reminded that a single grain of sand,

is the beginning of a pearl.