Placid

The river, even with little ripples 
On its surface, is placid and lazy
Especially when I consider my
Life and the turbulence of living
It. Boats actively roam its facade.
As they skim these waters,  they
Leave them still quiet especially 
If I compare the calm river with
Living on the land, my land, as
I navigate through the maze of 
Contradictions and trials, all
Bumps in the road, my path in
Life, uneven as if gravel were
Strewn along the way. Now I 
Proceed with the caution of the
Cautious, looking for my quiet.