Reason Why I Hide Behind Quiet Water

It doesn’t matter if a droplet falling into a pond is early morning dew born from a petal, rain drop gathered from the misty air on one of those gloomy day’s afternoon or simply a flake of weightless snow. The reason ripples created by such droplets are, not like the surging waters disappearing in a cloud of spray after beating upon the break-water in the air, the commotion of surfs monotonously coming to shore and returning sea disguised in white bubbles left on the sands, come calmly with no affection but simple artless form. The reason why I like the ripples started from the drop of water on the pond is, they spread as multiple rings come and go without a sound, and therefore, its soundless sound touches my heart as if deep sigh of the long mistreated forsaken men or a pure and clear mind of a man who attained the highest state of enlightenment through deep meditation thereby well understood true meaning of the life and the death. It doesn’t matter where the ripples come from: an exuviae of a dragonfly fell on the pond from wanting to return home where he spent his larva days though an imago flew away long ago to find his mate, a colorful petal faded away when the flower withered after its glorious days were gone, or a leaf, though there is no wind, fell in the pond dawdling for a while because it has to leave on a journey of no return holding a grief of decay. For the water ring moves only forward and, as if it’s the rings fate, vanish away without expressing emotion of any sort when it comes and touches the shore. Since the water ring doesn’t have place to return, there is no lingering attachment whatsoever; since it has no need for plausible excuse to justify its existence or nonexistence there would be much easier to live through its given life and leave quietly.