Circles & Ripples Poem by Mark Heathcote

We'll always be chasing the centre.
Circles through outer ripples.
Brought to life a stone's throw-
away, we'll drown in quibbles.

Never happy with our little pond
with our little lot, we'll draw-
back on breaths, long drowned.
Their woes, glad of awe:

Promises that when all else is lost.
There is always - something more.
Too profound to be discovered.
'Found wanting to be restored.'

We'll always be casting an eye-
over the water to moments in time
when the stillness of all tranquillity,
filled our hearts before their prime.