Bent over in spring rain
the hill is steep,
climbing from river
to promontory rock.
Bowed but not broken
I keep inside my coat,
one foot in front of the other,
absorbed by difficulty,
treading on memories
and lost hope
but continuing.
On the wind blown top
the trees grow thick,
low to the ground
in facing gusts,
yet from here
the river stretches
wide to the west
where the gorge opens
to the welcoming sea.
Looking far brings peace,
healing to these sore eyes,
knowing the distance
will soon be crossed
and the home we’ve sought
just there on the horizon.
Love this one!
I grow weary. Then I feel liberated at the height. I start to dream of what is in the ocean. Then I fear the cold and want to walk into a pub at the seashore. Of course, each person thinks of different things as they hear this
I think of climbing the 1,000′ to East Ridge summit to witness her directing of streams, some east to the Missouri, some west to the Columbia. In this poisoned city raped long ago by greed for copper and gold, today I am challenged enough trudging 3 fights of stairs.
“Looking far brings peace”
I’m gonna put that in my pocket
This poem is very a propos for what is happening for me at this time.
“Blessed are the hearts that can bend; they shall never be broken.” Albert Camus. Thank you, Don.
Heaven on earth IS close at hand!
I loved this Don in my stage of life. Thanks
Good poem Don, thank you for sharing it. Until we’ve crossed the distance – Home – I too keep inside my coat
We are all heading for the great crossing … that is where this poem took me. Memento mori.
You speak of the ebbs and flows, the cycles of life in this beautiful presentation. It reminds me of childbirth; of intense work and the rest in between that allows one to touch utter rest. The result of this highly concentrated work is the birth, the release…………all beautiful, all natural.