Tuesday, March 21, 2017

The River Wild



In the piney-woods,
the path is scattered with pine cones
and fallen branches,
ground soft and springy underfoot,
smell of canopy and trees,
song of the river
wild in winter flood.

The rough bark of Grandfather Cedar
tells the story of a thousand years
of standing in one place.
When you look up,
when you lay your hand
against his trunk,
when you listen,
you can feel and hear his message:
Endurance.




Look into this little pocket of forest,
draped in moss and old man's beard,
salal springing up everywhere,
ferns and fiddleheads,
small white winter berries,
rosehips,
toadstools and wild morel,
every inch alive with myriad life forms,
an entire ecosystem existing here,
in a patch
no bigger than
your hand.

Listen to the silence,
alive with the forest's breathing,
and the secrets
only the forest knows.
If you take the time,
this old tree
will share with you
his wisdom.




The river is wild in winter.
It expends its force
tumbling and crashing over rocks,
rushing the banks
and frothing white and foamy
through the canyon.




Sit a spell.
Just Be.
Breathe the river in,
breathe your worries out.

The word I'm looking for, here,
is reverence.


for Grace's prompt at dVerse Poets Pub: The River. In my time in Port Alberni, it was the river that sustained me. I took Pup often, as it was the wildest place available to us, and it eased, for the time we were there, our mourning over the wilderness we had lost. I was unable to go back there, after he died. 

All photos other than the one credited are mine.



19 comments:

  1. Beautiful. Makes me realize that it's been too long since I've walked in an old forest.

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  2. Indeed the right word. And all these words are wonderful, as are all these photos.

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  3. Beautiful message in this

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  4. Sounds like you've spent a lot of time with Grandfather Cedar, your advice is wise.

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  5. What a blessing to have a place to be... and yes that's the right word.

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  6. Those Grandfather trees know a thing or two that's for sure. I love your use of the word reverence. Forest, mountain, sea, river and lake have long since become my places of worship.It is here that I truly get a sense of perspective. Thank You for bringing this sense of reverence to the River this evening.

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  7. I enjoyed the trip down the river wild, Sherry!

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  8. The last stanza sums it up so perfectly.

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  9. lovely sharing of a place you treasured in your heart, I could feel every grass, tree and trickle like a scene from a movie through your words.

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  10. I hadn't realized it before although it is obvious once noticed that trees are "standing in one place" patiently enduring.

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  11. Wow. Thank you for taking us to a lovely journey with your words— to breathe the freshness of the forest and feast our eyes with greens. ❤

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  12. This is incredible and gorgeous...the pictures are awesome!

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  13. Gorgeous Sherry. You drew me in with your words and this world cascades though my thoughts with your poem. Jane

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  14. "Sit a spell. Just Be." YES. Yes, please.

    I also love (and need) this:
    Listen to the silence,
    alive with the forest's breathing

    Both that silence and I myself come alive with that forest's breathing. Sigh. Thank you for this gorgeous piece of work, Sherry.

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  15. Just so you Sherry to pay a powerful and moving tribute to trees, river and mother nature. I sent you an email.

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  16. Listen to the silence,
    alive with the forest's breathing,
    and the secrets
    only the forest knows.
    If you take the time,
    this old tree
    will share with you
    his wisdom.

    Sigh.. beautiful!!❤️

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  17. Beautifully expressed. Enjoy while there is still time.

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  18. Reverence is so appropo for the river, wild or calm ;)

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  19. If you take the time,
    this old tree
    will share with you
    his wisdom.

    An old but strong looking tree will give a picture of full of wisdom as it holds out on its own!

    Hank

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