Mirror the gray skies and prophesy
of the coming down pour. Depths imperceptable
might lie beneath the surface,
but they cannot be seen from here.
To plunge would seem the only choice
if I had not realized while sitting here,
letting the cold seep down to my marrow,
that what is seen is what is falling
and what is falling is what is seen;
it is an endless cycle that obscures my vision.
To curse the heavens would be vain indeed.
And now I fear, "What might I find?"
Reason is always behind what is hidden.
Do I have more reason to reveal?
Questioning intentions is abrupt;
I shake my fist to the skies and take the plunge.
Ripples reminisce...
Author notes
http://www.shirleyjeffrey.com/slideshow/rain-on-water.jpg
Comments
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PIXIE TAG!
Oh, darling poet...
I am visiting from The Enchanted Realm and have touched your poem with my 'lil Pixie wing, for I do love your enchanting poem so MUCH! 
Now it is your turn to visit a Pixie from our group and tag a poem, please? 
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