Ancients rise through morning light
with open sky on the green land.
They bring stories and songs,
for the ceremony of remembrance.

The new world waits
across the river of grief
in a circle of initiation
where forgiveness flowers.

Fire falls, future brightens,
the sunlit beauty of what will be
emerges from the mist,
the earth full of gladness.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

13 Responses

  1. Wow, what a beautiful, rich wave of feeling this poem draws from the well of my being, that I shall ride into this glorious day. Thank you Don

  2. The headwaters are nearing flood stage, reconfiguring sand and gravel bars,altering the currents within boundaries.

  3. I’m doing what I can to be ready for the initiation, and to face the ancients unafraid and with an open heart. Crossing the river of grief and surviving the ceremony of remembrance is not a given, as far as I can tell.

    Thank you, Don. Beautiful.

  4. I’m so thankful for your generous poem Don, and to witness the beauty coming forth from not only your words, but for all the men who offered a response. A precious moment.

  5. A potent reminder for me that one of the responsibilities of the ancients, the elders, is to be familiar enough with the territory of grief that they can lead others there, beyond which is forgiveness and gladness (in spite of external appearances!)…thanks, Don!

  6. The river of grief must be crossed quickly. No lingering there. I am grateful for your beautiful poem, Don!

  7. I just read this Don, coming up on the rear.of those above. This is such a complete poem. In a moment, such a full story is told, hopefully told and retold eadh day. In this season of morning brilliance your images captured something current and known. Most lovely, thank you.

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