I found this place
before winter snows,
green and tender
with the wet smell of life.
Resting here with wounds healing,
the impulse to go on
quieted by the river,
limbs like drooping cedars
let go and touch the earth.
Though the pass ice is melting,
the way across the mountains
opening for spring,
I don’t think I’m going.
The smell of apples
and litter of oaks
is enough of what I want,
nurturing the urge
to love what is close.
This poem brought tears. I hear you, Don…
And the photo… part of your band of brothers… some of the best people that I have had the good fortune to spend time with.
Such a rich and beautiful journey and a profound rest in between.
…and, to love “who” is near, whether on this side or the other–the other being a place I know little of….but somewhere beyond the pass. Unselfish love says abide here, as you describe, Don. Thank you.
This resonates with me, Don. Beautiful heart, soft flow…..
Your very touching poem reminds me of the old song that calls for loving the one you’re with by Crosby, Stills, and Nash. Your composition speaks to us of the richness that is at hand. The mountain calls but there is work and loving to be done at home. Thank you for the words that touch my heart, Don!
Yes, my experience too. Not cut off from the mountain, but content with the connection that just is, without having to go there. Here is enough, and contains it all.
Loving where you are really speaks to me, Don…..
Reads as a fine, finished, elegantly crafted, beautifully flowing poem–the imagery carrying the reader right through the writer’s experience, in concert with ones own, on the simple and the rare planes of being, being here. Thank you.
I hear and feel “the elder’s presence” in this poem, at home in one’s own skin and connected to all things. Thank you!
The richness of this poem and the accompanying picture are beyond words. This is one of my (and Xavier’s) favorite pictures.