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at our creek this morning
I simply watch
feeling the magic
of this special place
whose source is hidden
just let it go and let it run
the small stream will grow
letting it flow beyond boundaries
over the pebbles of life
in touch with roots and moss
accumulating images from beyond
demanding freedom from underground
where everything emerges into one
and a small stream will grow
moving on with absolute trust
before another storm arrives
awash with another day of dreams
flowing towards the sea of possibilities
where memories drown beneath yesterday
and fly above above the mysteries of god
the small stream will grow
bound and determined
without concern for the dead birch
preparing for the conditions ahead
and the firmness in its commitment
with self trust and wisdom
the small stream will grow
and become that river
17 comments:
nice progression in this...i guess even streams gown up one day...smiles...the repitition is enchanting...
I like the idea of growth from small beginnings.. it is a complex process for humans as well as rivers!
An excellent metaphor.
Wayne- There's so much power in this flowing piece. I love all the vividness throughout, too.
I really enjoyed the progression from many tight channels underground, to the water meeting roots and moss. Just as you immerse yourself in the colors and elements of your paintings; allow yourself to dwell in each phase of your writing! Thanks for visiting.
Well done, that Tale of the River! Thanks.
lovely poem-this feels just exactly how rivers become rivers.
hmmmm....you've done this before I see
I enjoyed the flow :)
of this lovely poem
it swept me away from the first line
I just saw that your Granddaughter's name is Cadence......hmmm again
that is marvelous
One can feel the flow of the river in this poem...lovely.
Dear Wayne: "and fly above the mysteries of god"...very memorable! Much "magic"!!!
Lovely flow, lovely poem.
Beautiful!!
Funny how this affected me... I blogged about it at http://lockwoodseasons.blogspot.com/2012/01/dream.html
especially loved these lines: awash with another day of dreams
flowing towards the sea of possibilities
where memories drown beneath yesterday
..thank you
Christine from Lockwood Seasons sent me here. Your river poem inspired her dream. Now I can see why. I look forward to reading more of your beautiful poems. Thanks.
Lovely words to accompany this image. For some reason I particularly liked the line, "without concern for the dead birch"... well done.
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