Lull Poem by Paul Reed

Here they are,
In little groups of two or three
In this strange boulder-strewn landscape
Mainly of the future,
But also of me;

Look under the lids of their blue-sky eyes
And see the sun's reflections run free
Bathed in goodness and quiet times,
Living in this great land
Next to the sea;

The essence is in the beginning
In the dawning of the day,
Gone all too quickly
Because we are much too keen
To enter the fray;

So they tarry here for a while
Take the morning at it's full,
For the peace that comes
Is not in the rapids,
But only to be found in the lull.