Sometimes, nature doesn’t have to be brilliant.
A pond the size of a spread blanket will do.
It’s hardly bigger than a puddle,
unremarkable in the language of most.
There’s hardly room in it for anything to live
and yet there are tiny tadpoles roaming its shallows,
a cloud of gnats on the surface
under attack by a dragonfly.

From far away, it’s not even there.
Up close, it takes the kind of leap of faith
that requires a bent knee 
and an eye for exquisite detail.
Grass, weeds, a purple wildflower,
hold its banks together,
while one lily pad props itself up,
makes room for a future frog.

Of course, memory helps compensate
for its plainness.
I was smaller which made it larger.
And, despite the encroaching civilization,
my imagination holds on.
Giving grandeur to the unassuming 
is a job I’ve taken on.
This pond is one of my success stories.