Creeks are grey with snow melt,
the forest floor wet with rain.
Spring clears the winter tangle,
brush and debris carried away
to rivers already full
and rushing to the sea.
I’ve gathered deadwood,
the wasted energy
that needs to pass.
Let me wash with rivers,
pristine once more
like a deep vaulted canyon.
Below what departs
only stone
and in that silence
I am whole.
Yes. Let me wash with rivers like a deep vaulted canyon… I may not ever be pristine again, but let me wash with rivers anyway. Thanks, Don!
I loved this. I think Lent is helping as well.
Prayer-like and solemn, requiring some silence from me to surround the moment.
So thankful for the gift of spring cleaning …at all levels!
Reading your words in this poem, Don, I feel myself sinking into a lovely wetness, so peaceful, restful. Thank you.
I love the way you compare the experience of nature to ours, as human beings! We are one indeed. Thank you, my friend, for these wonderful poems you so easily deliver and bless us with!
Thank you Don. My body and consciousness, too, are being washed in the mighty river, transforming and made ready for the lilting springtime airy updrafts, and tredding the stony summer pathways, moving onward into the inexorable fiery autumn transmutations. Life itself is such a wondrous epic poem! Each individual life a page bound in the great Book of Verses that makes whole and One.