This point once had a native name
with salmon and rockfish flowing in the currents,
clams and oysters and herring uncountable,
camas covering the thin soils,
ancient cedars in the wetlands,
fir and oaks in broad savannas
where brush was burned again and again
for deer and elk and all sorts of game.
The list would take the book of life,
the trees, the plants, the grasses,
mushrooms, microbes
and fresh water veining in the rock.
Settlers called this Limberry Point;
they too would fish but for commerce,
felling the cedars and fir, burning the peat,
taking the herring in great nets
until eventually taking them all.
I’m watching with the ancient stones
whose feet stretch down to the sea,
extending into deep water
and the caverns of the channel
where another layer feeds and flows.
I become quiet, the inner tide
stilling through observance
while the outer ebb grows in force
south to the far straits and distant ocean.
I keep watch while I live,
still in love after all these years,
learning her movements,
her wisdom, her complexity.
One day I will dry up like summer grass,
joining the wind and passing tide
yet before I go I will speak of her
and witness how she shines.
OY VEY! — a beauty she is… and the poem ain’t bad either. 🙂
Beautiful, Don. Thank you. True witness.
This is mastery. You have allowed mother to speak to you.
I love this poem.
“Still in love after all these years”….how true!
There is such strength in the humility of this poem; a love song, really.
I know this.
The themes you are weaving in your recent poetry–into and out of the sea, the rocks, the earth, time, and the passage of a human life–are beautiful, honoring, accepting, flowing with, gracious. They give extended imagery, hope, faith, wisdom and deep appreciation out beyond the farthest ripples of my little haiku:
Years are minutes now;
whirling seasons carry me
deeper into dusk
Thank you for your ongoing service to the spirit.
Thanks for sharing you Beauty, Bro.
I feel deeply your sorrow AND honoring, Don. A similar story is unfolding in here in the Land of Shining Mountains. Different circumstances, parallel outcome. My family’s traditional light step visits were never an intrusion on the Order of things. As went the lives of natives, so go the lives of pioneer families, of which I am of the last generation. My stance of Blessing is challenged, yet the Way is my Way.
Keep that wonderful witness going. Your words bring anyone who reads them in closer harmony with what you see.
Bravo! Such strong, vibrant imagery.
…..and how many tens of thousands of Limberry Points are there on this small blue ball, that have been fished out, hunted out, burned out and cut out? This goes beyond poignancy to the depths of our souls and our planet, where “The list would take the book of life.”
My heart is moved to tears…..and indeed she does shine!
You’ve put into words how I’m feeling about humanity right now. I honor the losses while continuing to keep watch, to love, and to seek points of wisdom and light.
Chock full very specific images and a sonnet in its structure of point, counterpoint, resolution showing again how powerful that internal “invisible” tension is in the success of a poem like this one. Love it!