What fool would listen
to ghosts beside the river,
the shades of ancient trees,
of badger and wolf
when proud buildings
fill the waterfront,
roads sleek and strong
rise above the spring flood?
Lost souls beneath the bridges
hear these voices
and the plaintive sound
of creeks beneath the pavement.
We climb in tubes of steel,
see far from great towers.
Let old ghosts rant
and abuse the trolls.
The sound of highway thunders,
the music of our new lives
drowning the memory
of the dark forest
and all that went before.
Don, we are some of the “fools”. I pray that the younger generations will visit the forests, listen well, preserving the memories of the natural world before going down for the third time. You have created an eloquent warning.
Eloquent. I’m glad you still hear those voices.
Awesome Don!
Very powerful.
I know of at least 2 fools … Thanks for your constancy, Don!
Beautiful Don … eternal Essences evoked
I worked outdoors all day away from other human beings for several year, within the semi-desert, high country grasslands & ponderosa pine which is the homeland of the Secwepemc People here in south-central BC.
The ancient Voices, music & drumming echoed across my inner landscape & blended with the magic & the mystery of all Life forms dancing to the living Word, creating a timeless Sound within me & without me.
So grateful for this, and for you, and for all who see these “hundred thousand thousand shapes” and hear these “thousand blended notes.”
Beautiful. Thank you.
SPLENDID!!
Love from your “troll sister,” T
Perfect, Don. Keeping alive those memories is part, a large part of why I photograph as I do. I have to go there to do the photos. Witness twice: In person and in the photographs.
As i bicycle the many trails around the Eugene Oregon forests these warm days, of early March, a sense of quiet and peace emerges, a chance to see the various birds, animals, occasionally deer,, and last fall an elk,, as well as flowers and ferns. These bring to mind reflections of our place in this world and what we each can do to connect with others in peace and contentment. Thus the outer wold can begin to see our values reflected in all that we do. Thanks Don.for the reminder of our real job.
Don, this is more lyrical than the thought I had yesterday while crossing the Fraser River in Vancouver, BC yesterday. Near the airport, there is a marina marked along one bank of the river. It seemed incongruous. Thanks for the poetry you send us.
Sadness at the truth sounded in this poem……
I Am that fool .. Listening, and Inviting.
Uh, I will say that when you opened with a question that I kept waiting for and looking for the question mark.
Don, As a poor child, I longed to walk away from the dark forest. However, it lives on in my memory and I am aware that these days many confirm what we remember and the “proud buildings” can’t overtake it all.
best yet–
from a builder no less—
Thanks for your continuous stream of heartfelt sharing.
Reaching through the veil, touching the rose