Who Will Find Me

Who will find me
hidden away in the warmth
of this dark winter cave?
Dreams to be dreamt,
visions to be honored,
the slow eating of fat
and the quiet, quiet heartbeat.
When the first salmon toil
over rock bedded streams,
when snow falls from the full
laden branches of evergreen,
when sun finds its way
along the great arc north
then I will stretch and uncurl
from this lightless comfort
and sing once more my hunger.



Photograph by John Shaw


11 Responses to “Who Will Find Me”

  1. thomas mcdermott says:

    Very lovely bear energy conjured up by this poem. Tomorrow I abscond to NZ for some summer weather! I have your book down there, which my wife read and loved but I never got to last year. Cheers!

  2. Ravenstalk says:

    ::: “The Slow Eating of Fat” ::: Yessss :::

  3. Rose Meeker says:

    This one goes deep for me, Don. Gorgeous.

  4. Veronica Lim says:

    How soothing your words as they wash over me! Thank you, Don.

  5. This poem is a song or a winter chant. It truly gave me goosebumps. I am going to print it out and read it at a Solstice ritual.

  6. Maria Frid says:

    Darkness is a blessing……thank you, Don!

  7. Viki V. says:

    Speaks volumes of the slowing into winter.

  8. Pichay says:

    In retirement from the busy human world, it is a joy to sleep 10,11 hours in deep slumber. But…wait! Will there be a Spring –as we have known it–be there waiting to present a new season to me? Come what may…

  9. Sweet image,Don…of the value of hibernating away from the business of life…

  10. David Barnes says:

    Yes Don – there is quiet joy and lightless comfort known in this part of the rhythm of the cycles – and, by reason of your poem I am keenly reminded that I am not all alone here in the dark. We are in this great womb together.

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