Under gray winter skies
the heart of the valley pumps
through the tap roots of evergreen.
Crows sit atop the tall firs,
lean and thin with winter hunger.
I am not gathering, no,
still living off summer fat,
quiet as the stones beside the river.
There I dream of building bridges
to span the chasm that keeps us apart.
Later, much later, people will cross
with their wagons of desire,
ready to inhabit the forgotten land
verdant and rich with green destiny
yet only we have the power
to reach out now
and dare to touch hands,
savoring this moment
across the expanse.
Reading of “Building Bridges” with music by Vivaldi featuring Itzhak Perlman
Don: A beautiful reflection as Spring arrives.
Sitting around the breakfast table with Kate and granddaughter, Rowan (6 3/4); hearing you read your wonderful poem with Vivaldi playing in the background……Thank you for joining us this morning and making this grey day a little bit brighter.
Don, may that bridge take from fast and strong. We sure need it. Thank you for putting so much beauty into your poem.
Thank you Don. The building of bridges is how we survive. Thank you for the many ways you have built this bridge- the sharing of your inner garden one week at a time. It’s a beautiful tapestry, woven by a master of the art.
How beautiful, Don! The sonorous violin, and the sweet bird savoring the blossom, perfectly complement your invitation to reach out and savor a bridge of connection – with each other, and with life, in all its forms!
With You, Don, I see my deep privilege: to, with one hand, tend & keep the rich, verdant, once forgotten Land I’ve glimpsed in remembrance; And, with my other hand, I’m waving, high in the air, my dare to those bridge builders desirous enough to see what now I see; Here is a Field; We can meet Here!
Don — I see that Jay Schwartz has commented on, and approved of, your wonderful poem. I say, “Me too.” Seriously, I really liked your poem. Ditto what the always-erudite Tom Figel said.
It was E.M.Forster who so wisely coined the phrase “Only Connect.”