Hymns of Stone
By onemorething
- 508 reads
The river shifts in mood;
one day it is gunmetal,
a muddy green the next,
and it is always a woman -
so long at the mercy
of greater forces,
and we call some nymphs,
accustomed to the movement
of water over hymns of stone;
we name them, and beguiled,
we could never believe
that they might drown in it.
The banks cling to crack willow
roots, primed against flood, rain
that rises, threatens,
then seethes, beyond gravity:
breaks time's grip in a motion
that feels unstoppable.
I wonder if it is lost then,
in the uncontrollable cycle
I have witnessed in me.
I am source to sea, and back
to source to sea again, so too,
this murky body - the wind is caught
in the cotton of bulrush, past
the downy stems of willowherb:
the transport of all elements,
I imagine the monsters
it must also hide, dangerous,
below and under, silted and veiled,
deep within its natural flow.
Image is from here: https://commons.m.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Leader_Benjamin_Williams_Severn_Side_Sabrina-s_Stream_at_Kempsey_on_the_River_Severn.jpg
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Comments
You capture the wild aspect
You capture the wild aspect of a river so well. I can imagine watching the torrents in my mind's eye as I read.
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This is full of amazing
This is full of amazing contrasts, movement, it is WONDERFUL
"seethes, beyond gravity:
breaks time's grip in a motion
that feels unstoppable. "
"wind is caught
in the cotton of bulrush, past
the downy stems of willowherb"
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