Prelude to winter’s grand opening,
flush me with rain’s old arias,
invite creeks, rivers to turn me
like a single rusted ruby leaf
which knows no fear of falling.
Release me into fern canopy,
moss bedstead, stony path to rest
so that heaven’s sheer blood
runs rich and swift to my heart.
So magic!
Thank you for finding it in the poem!
It’s four in the morning and I’ve just come across this poem. How perfect it is. I agree with the idea that nature isn’t something beyond us. It is who we are, and as your poem reflects, once we come to realize that fact we become truly human.
Thank you for posting.
Ah. Yes. Thank you for saying so, Paul, and for coming back for more.
Lovely. Your pics?
Bottom one only. Thanks, Derrick.
A very beautiful poem. Expresses the river’s beauty wonderfully.