There is a sudden tranquility of the running stream
below a woman not swimming on the liquid,
and the tranquility of the rose.
The tranquility of the hummingbird’s call
in between each song,
the tranquility of the crickets when they are not chirping.
The lulled sound of the woman falling into the water,
the tranquility of the sun
and the calmness of the grass away from the screams of the rain.
The tranquility when she holds the flowers to her chest,
the tranquility of the wind around them,
and the tranquility when the flowers drift away.
And there is the tranquility of the subsiding rain
which had been broken by the rising sun,
a tranquility masked by the roaring raindrops all day
like a horde of animals galloping through the still grass —
The tranquility before the rain fell
And the poorer tranquility now.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner.