When entering the pond
The first thing I saw
Was a fish
Who seemed without a home
Asking for money.

As I swam
Deeper
I heard more fish
Yelling at others
For their slow swimming

And in this pond
That I found upon leaving the stream
The fish
Were tough
I, as a visitor,
Felt
Out of place.

But then I came to a glorious rock
At the bottom of the pond.
Magna Terra has stood
For hundreds of years
At the bottom of the pond
Even before the fish arrived

As I glanced at this shimmering quantity
I noticed the slipstream
Would move slowly in approach
But then
Wrestle over the rock’s surface
And thrash down upon its back
Until impact
With the ground
Where it would
Correct its posture
And continue its pace.

As I noticed this superfluous detail
I saw
That other fish
Rough fish
Were around me
A constant flow of
Observers.
And they, like me, marveled at
The rock’s significance.

But I was just a visitor,
Moving with the stream,
What I thought was a glorious sight
Was actually
Their lifeline.