Posted by: highmountainmuse | September 25, 2009

A twist in the river

a twist in the river

a twist in the river

I sit by the river

And watch the metallic spark

Of the setting sun

Define each coil and curve

Of the surge of the river

Flowing like molten steel

Burning a path through the open flats

Burning a path though our simple lives

With nothing more to do here and now

Than watch the perpetual course.

 

Last light of the day

We grasp onto it

With both hands

In desperation

Afraid to lose what we once had

Forgetting that tomorrow

We will have something new

Is it this innovation that frightens us?

 

This is not the end of the day

But the beginning of feeding time

As the elk emerge from the solace of black timber

Once again trusting the exposed meadows

In the renewed silent static darkening

Shetler of the open places.

 

On the other side of the river in the naked flats

Afraid to let go of the consolation of light

A formation of geese

Shine silver against the indigo sky

In the last of the luminosity

As they fly so loudly

To their near by sanctuary

Calling it a day

As the light readies to fade to black.

 

Before the sun lowers itself behind the mountain

To the west from where this water flows

I watch rays of sunshine casting horizontal shadows

Long and lean and sharp

Lying like knives in a drawer

Across the edge of tree line

And then it is gone

The river turns black and cold and still.

Advertisements

Responses

  1. Its like i were there watching .I can hear every sound and see the river as the sun goes down .Its a wonderful sight if only in my mind .I will see it for real someday .It maybe my last great adventure . But i will hike the trails and see the wonder .
    DON
    PS
    If anyone wants to E mail me and just talk
    I would like that very much .Talking to a little
    white dog is sort of one sided
    My E Mail is “rimefire22@gmail.com “

  2. Good idea, Don.
    Don is on the road, on a mission, off on an adventure to see his family, including a new born great grand son. I call this living life. Seizing the day. Please keep in touch with him along his journey!

  3. “Last light of the day

    We grasp onto it

    With both hands

    In desperation

    Afraid to lose…” Because we do lose. And it hurts. But the sun gives us new chances, doesn’t it. We just must weather the course between the grief and hope. Those days of in-between I want to insist the sun stop his ceaseless shining slice. I want to crawl under leaves and hide. But…life. I replied to your kind concern on my blog. You are treasured here…and on my heart as I head for Georgia. A sudden trip. We bear our lives into the sun, no? Vastly richer for knowing you…
    R

  4. Ruth,
    How is it you are able to find the right words, and create such beauty with them?
    Be safe, well and strong on your trip to Georgia… Thank you for being there, irregardless of where “there” may be.

  5. Thank you too Gin…I’m still home. Trip was cancelled. Diving into my studies.
    Hugs…
    R

  6. For me, one of the most magical, unforgetable things about travelling in the mountains has been looking down into a valley in the evening and seeing the sun reflect golden from the twists and turns of a ride far below. You have captured beautifully the precious moments when one can gaze upon nature highlighted so magnificently.

    It’s curious how, looking down on the world from the heights, it seems like a different place to the valleys and lowlands that we tread at a different time. Looking from the mountains makes places sem more special, indeed the mountains add something, and so do mountain people for they are different to the people of the plains. (Hilaire Belloc wrote an essay along those lines, I think – I must look for it.)

    I must admit that, as the sun fell, my thoughts turned to the warm cabin that we were heading for, the welcome, the sights and sounds of our horses feeding, the mug of ale or wine that would be pressed into my hands.

  7. Thanks for writing, WHP, and so beautifully said, your words, images and understanding…

  8. Ruth – may it be a good weekend then. May I be so bold to say rest might be better than travel – if you allow yourself the time. Never easy when you stay back home, I know.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Categories

%d bloggers like this: