Rocky Slope

To know only storm is to miss the morning sea

before the rising warmth lifts a breeze;

the same with calm if that is your demand

for then how will you join the wind in all its glory?

The ebb gathers force hour by hour

chasing invisible moon across the sky

while otters wobble down the rock like lumbering dogs

until they slip into the sea with the grace of a fish.

My body slowly leaves me, turning back to elementals

until I reach the new born babe shitting joyfully

with the bright flame of inner self unguarded.

Why cling to what is passing, who I am always returns.

Slowly I stumble down the rocky slope

until the water takes me and I dive.



11 Responses to “Rocky Slope”

  1. Tom Walsh says:

    That brings a smile to me… All the best brother

  2. Mary Lodholm says:

    Thank you Don. Your ease with what is so difficult for me, has always been and will always be, a Godsend. My deepest gratitude for your light.

  3. Athena Coleman says:

    The older I get the more things I like. Not the un-discerning like of immaturity, but the attitude that I am happy to be alive in this moment, whatever the moment is bringing to me. I am finally the rock in the
    stream, with water (life) flowing all around and through me and I’m
    fine with that. I may even be ecstatic.

  4. Pichay says:

    I was born in the shade–not shadow–of a magnificent mountain peak, where pure water streams shyly down it’s flanks, every moment moving home to the sea. Now in ebb years my form yields to slowness, like the river formed of a million mountain brooks slowing in respect for the sea patiently waiting to receive these waters unto itself, that the creative process may be born yet again.

  5. Lloyd Meeker says:

    I’m touched by the irony inherent in your vision, Don. What makes us clumsy in one realm is exactly what makes us fast and graceful in another. A childish, bitter voice tells me that’s not fair, but when I ask it what it would be willing to give up to have more of the other, it has no answer.

    In the human amalgam of spirit and form, I fumble with my skill and my longing, my vision and my survival, with varying success at integration — but my hearing, once occupied with the clamor of daily life now hears the sea chanting to me more clearly.

  6. Keith Hancock says:

    Don, this is a very cool site. I know & knew your love for poetry . . . but this is really incredible! Joy & sorrow are two other highs and lows that you can only know one by knowing the other to a fuller and fuller extent as life gives you all sorts of different experiences and wow! I like the otters . . . they know how to live.

  7. Jude says:

    Loving this moment I went to sea, as our mountains burn this Solstice.

  8. Valerie Baker Easley says:

    This is masterful, Don. Thank you. The universal perspective is our sanctuary, and you capture it evocatively.

  9. “Why cling to what is passing”? I do believe you’ve discovered my middle name. Thank you for putting into words that which I feel, think, know, and affirm.

  10. This says to me hide not the shadow or what is natural. love what is and keep on letting go. Allowing change is part of the process and it keeps on getting better every day as realization of what is eternal grows within. I appreciate this reminder which touches cords within as good poetry does.

  11. Bill Dare says:

    Awesome… and my wife, Anne, who’s animal name is “Otter Woman” really liked it too.

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