Ode to Depression

Action begets action but

Inaction is its own reward

Without will or want

Stillness overtakes

The human heart

Settling down as
Ripples ambiguate

Across the surface
Of the pond

To speak of it
Is to loosen the spell
To admit the truth
To oneself is
To take but a sip
From a cool
Restorative well

But no less unceasingly
It's a flat expanse of earth
Where I have come to dwell
No more than a sandbar really
Sic transit the gulls and herons
From one day
To the next while
Clouds linger
On the horizon