Tall firs alive with wind
as crows circle in the gray sky.
What strength of root
for those green sails to wave,
their masts held stable in the ground.
I hang on with aging roots,
the soil around me without comfort,
knowing my time may have passed
and I a ghost left above ground.
Cautious of becoming bitter,
acidic to the green world,
I grow quiet, dissolved in silence.
Then like a branch lifted by the wind,
I understand my errors
are the roots that hold me,
sorrow the knowing of the river,
how it rises and falls yet moves on.
I recall springs in the mountain cleft,
shining brown rocks where I stepped and fell,
the soft spread of green where creek joined river,
the mile wide flow toward ocean sound.
There is no stopping, only the slow bending curve,
the high bar of gravel, for I am water
and where the river goes I go.
photograph by Louis MacKenzie
Reading of “For I Am Water” with music by R. Carlos Nakai
This poem is especially relevant to my journey as my time here draws closer with each new year. Thank you beloved poet. Happiness be yours throughout the New Year.
Wow! Extended metaphor—boom! You nailed it! I was able to enter the dream that is the poem and move through it flawlessly with no distractions. So much to love about this poem, but what I loved most was the progression from image to image. You hung an idea or reflection on each without breaking the felt sense of being tree, forest, water.
This is a wonderful beginning to the New Year!
“There is no stopping……” thank you, my friend for this perfect utterance! Sending love to you and yours for this new and exciting life cycle!
Lovely imagery and a sense of surrender to the march of time and greater plan/purpose
Enjoying the art of board surfing, there is nothing quite like that feeling of Flow experienced with the medium of water. Many times I have wiped out, and each time I paddle out again, and again. The Flow is irresistible, and the wipeouts are ever so important as well. Thanks brother.
In this new year, a precious gift of fresh water to the rising tide of soul’s purification.
GLORIOUS!!
Happy New Year, Soul Brother…
Happy New Year, Don, and thank you for a multitude of marvelous images to flow through enroute to the great ocean of All Being.
I turned 63 this week, and this is my birthday poem, I think.
Don, thank you for the first of 2023. Don’t worry. You are well-anchored with ageless roots. For one thing, your curiosity ties you to everything past, present and future.
Thank you for your portrayal of aging and wisdom.
Excellent, Don!! Thanks for these thoughts.