The Place Below
(A metaphoric poem about Niagara Falls)

Soldiers marching to their destiny
The rushing sound of swish, swish about them
All blue and all business
Not a minute for a spare thought
Not a second to rest.
All the soldiers marching tirelessly ahead.

Ahead of them are a million soldiers and behind follow another billion
One by one, side by side they march.
Through and around anything in their way.
All around them, people gaze
Filled with amazement and wonder,
The closer they get the faster they travel
Relentlessly marching onward

Splitting here because of a rock,
Joining there once more.
Eyes fixed, head unable to turn
Focused thoroughly, nothing to stop them.
Conquer them, you may try
But fail you will.

Never will they stop,
Never will they slow,
Until they have reached their destiny,
The place below.

Here they come to take the fall,
Anything to reach the bottom place
Away from it all.
Falling they are, row after row
And endless supply,
One million more go.

Some shall survive,
Others shall perish.
Whatever happens they shall try,
To get to the place below.

Date posted: September 12, 1999.

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