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above the village
"Above the Village"
The mountain’s grey ridge holds the sky in place, firm and still.
Rain begins in even pulses—drop, drop, drop—each clear and separate.
Below, the village unfolds in neat rows: tiled roofs reflecting silver beads.
Paths shine with gentle rivers, each drop tracing the same perfect curve.
At the mountain’s edge, a waterfall forms—water moves in measured arcs.
The steady beat of falling water feels magical: constant, predictable, alive.
From sky to earth, each drop completes its single, precise journey.
In that rhythm of rain, the world finds calm through repetition.
I’ve tried to capture the
I’ve tried to capture the quiet and rhythm of rain falling on a quiet village,
from the mountain’s steadfast ridge to the silver-glinting roofs below.
Which image paused you—the steady drop, the mirrored paths or the waterfall’s measured arc?
How did the repetition shape your reading pace or mood?
I’d love to hear your impressions, questions or even a single word that springs to mind.
—Let’s explore this calm through repetition together.
here is poetry that doesn't always conform
galateus, arkayye, arqios,arquious, crypticbard, excalibard, wordweaver