I
In the first still dusk as
a bamboo reed rang out its song
across the stony creek bed where
dry waters purled and pooled and
disappeared from sight
up Douglas slopes through branch and
pointed leaf to lave perhaps against
far up ridge tops
she skirted round the camp
in perfect invisible silence
and only a sensation of presence
revealed her nearness
In the night when sleep
peeled back for a moment to show
through the outline of long slender boughs
the purity of moonless stars
somewhere in the darkness hummed
those same refrains
II
In the morning nothing
came but the call of a slight breeze
the whiz of curious bees
the patter of miniature feet
All day brushed slender blades of grass
eager scrub oaks prickly young pines and
random thorny twigs
but no sign of her
no sense no brush
Yet again in the campfire dark when
bamboo melodies called from the edge
of a long steep bank that slid into shadow
down to the tickle of autumn waters
in the bouldered bed of the Eel
at the brink of the campfire glow
her silhouette flickered about but seen
from the farthest corners of vision
dancing naked and black like a thought
balanced on the edge of mind
All throughout the steady breath of night
pinecones dropped to the leafy ground
nearby chipmunks peeped their fretful dreams
and insects rustled through fallen leaves
while eyes unmanifest studied
the softly breathing tent
III
First light brought the faintest hint
of smoke from fires far away
Something stirred behind the veil of
tall thin trunks enclosed against the view
movement felt like whispers in the soul
The long day walked beneath
the giant shade of leaning trees
by bits of sky reflected in the still
brown waters of a stump-hole spring
along the curve of ridge-tops
cradled in the haze
of smoke filled valleys
And ever just beyond the reach of sight
a small rock shifts and tumbles off
a lone branch rickles on the pine
a motion stirs the thick-leaved underbrush
In the shade of failing light
by a broad and rocky bed
where the Upper Eel collects in autumn pools
a tiny fire challenged back the dusk
Here bansuri strains again
rose to fill the channel's course
resounding up through ponderosa slopes
to wash within the storied weave
of tributary canyons
ridged against the stars
Her shadow moved evading sight
yet brushing close within the dark
stepping to the rise and fall
of wide emotions lifted through the night
joy and grief melodious delight
IV
Soft gray light dissolved resurgent dreams
of footfall whispers breath and glance which
lingered on to greet the brimming sun
beams sent phasing through the haze
long-ways down the empty stream
and lingered still up a slope-bound canyon path
through shifting shale and shaggy shrub
along the rolling ridge again
through phantom stands of furrowed bark
rising dark and gray against the sky
and lingered still up steep and scaly climbs
by smooth red manzanita limbs
stretched across the winding trail
by outcrops where the vision swoops
down shadowed valleys over distant peaks
And all the while
something moved some steps behind
keeping stride though never seen
a calm sensation just behind the ear
that cooled the beads of early autumn heat
On the side of a shaly slope
by the base of a tall red cedar
fingers played the dimming sun
suspended in far layered folds of smoke
She stood nearby like a cypress in the breeze
swaying unseen to melodies
that laid the orange orb to rest
relaxed the groggy grip of day
and summoned constellations
from the stillness of the depths
V
Daylight woke to life the vibrant hues
of arborvitae giants gathered
in a loose-knit fairy ring
attending birdsong smoke the ring of stones
cooling in their midst
Yellow jackets came to ascertain
the meaning of each minor change
Blue jays sprang from limb to limb
watching every motion played
beneath their blue-black feet
Chipmunks scrattled facing up then down
making timid speculations on
what might be left behind
She loitered like a vapor
as the tent was broken down
as water boiled over stainless flame
as sleeping bag and ground roll
were fitted into place
as pack and frame retook once more
the weight of exploration
and all was as it was before except
one faint disturbance fading from the grass
She followed like the faintest wind
beneath the swaying arms of hilltop trees
along a trail of vistas
shaken out in shades of green
down to hallowed halls perfumed with
silence cast through sugar pine and fir
by emerald meadows
each blade of grass filled bright
with drops of sun
Pebbled water soothed the skin
while all around the glimmer
of sapphire amethyst topaz ruby
danced above the Eel into the sky
and all throughout the contoured watercourse
She stayed near
as one last fire flared to light
as darkness crept into the woods
as halflight haloed the west horizon
as shadows flickered to life
on the bank across the river
as flute-tones rose once more
to permeate each living thing with song
She settled like a mist
on sere tufts of grass
and reached to touch the magic source
of all the sounds that stirred the recent nights
Fingers paused
a moment on the wood
eyes studied darkness gazing far
through a fog of feelings undefined
a long sigh trembled to harmonic stars
then played again the woodwind strains
serenades to solitude
In a list
Thoughts, Feelings, Interpretations, Experience: [Reward: double points]
Comments
1 - 24 of 24
-
Hmmmmmmmm abit long for me, but i have a short attention span but a really good beatifull peice of writting thanks for writting it..
-
This is just beautiful. Truly your imagery was like none I've read in some time...and I have some pretty good favorites. This work is stunning. I hope to see more from you down the road.
-
Sometning very awesome here
To be able to feel all those sensations, I was able to visualize each line, every stanza, I personally love Solitude. This delightful piece of poetry depicts to me that you went away to forget about someone or be near God.and He or she was in every breath you breathed.Telling of the magic that surrounded you.
Am I close?
. Rewarded 6
-
Well this is on the review list, so here it is ...its really not my taste I guess i find it a little flowery (but my preference is often for the less poetic and more straightforward confessional, so mark it down as a matter of taste) and I feel that its primarily the length that made it a little remote for me- I do have a disgustingly short attention span, cant bear to read some of my own poems when theyre long, though I can understand why youve kept the length given your 6 day journey....
I think my favourite lines were
lingered still up steep and scaly climbs
by smooth red manzanita limbs
stretched across the winding trail
by outcrops where the vision swoops
down shadowed valleys over distant peaks
Yeah well thats just about all i can say about that one, I can see it meant something special to you and that all your descriptions probably beautifully describe this place to you, Id like to set you a challenge and see if you could write 6 4 line stanzas or better still,though more restrictive, 6 sets of 2 lines to describe this- because I feel that your subject choice and idea about the story was original and creative and would perhaps be more accessible to short attention span people like me-though Id understand if you cant (as you said you couldnt really reduce it further) or wouldnt care to
I think all this imagery could be distilled into simple and rich haiku like stanzas to give it a different approach to the 'full story' you present here...
Yes, I do rave on,
. Rewarded 8
-
Great use of metaphor with the strong scent of nature and even human longing in the beginning. Prose creates images that strokes the senses, and I felt as though I was back in time, somewhere more peaceful where the "natural" existed overshadowing the unnatural synthetic world we live in now. I was transported and could see her against a backdrop of campfires, hear her song and smell her enduring perfume of yarrow and pine. Well done! Might have to try more free verse myself. Enjoyed the flow and the journey I just took. Thank you! Keep them coming! Be blessed!--Kel
-
I thought this was an excellent poem. Haunting and mysterious. I as pulled in and drawn to read more, though I did find it too long. You used great imagery and I really got a feel for where you were and all the beautiful nature around. Even though I found it a bit boring as it became too long and repetitive, this is still worth 3 claps. Well done to you on this!
. Rewarded 6
-
I would give almost anything to be able to write as beautifully as you. cq
-
I see the spiritual joy of being alone in the wilderness in this poem. You seem to have had some wonderful outdoor experiences and know how to give poetic expression to them. Solitude turns a great companion in this piece. Well done, friend.
. Rewarded 4
-
This is beautiful. The imagery is the best I've seen in awhile. You pulled me in and captured the moments in my mind. Stunning work. It just flowed so lovely. It was definately delicate and a bit haunting. I think you have portrayed what you set out to portray.
-
The diction, the syntax and the stanzas are well choosen and structured. This is very 'stream of consiousness.' It is amazing the wisdom that comes to you when you spend time in solitude. I too have spent time in the woods by myself (only for two days - not six), but time away from others forces you to examine yourself in a way that you can't when others are near.
-
Fleeting , yet
Soft images persist in this pretty write. Your descriptive paintbrush ( definately water-color, probably Asian influenced) is tender and light. I really think that this would benefit from some contrast. Even your small use of shadow and dark is not enough to change this readers vision of pastel hue on fine linen. There is an unreality that superimposes across this world you create. The dancing muse is compelling, but remains aloof. You have set the stage for a drama that never occurs, leaving this audience of one to question, where have we been taken, and why?
Beautiful images, but I feel it needs more depth and emotion.
. Rewarded 8
-
-
good thoughts.
this attempts to depict an actual experience of six days in the woods not coming across another human being. i wanted to depict the experience as closely as possible, and the climax of the experience in life was suddenly having absolute peace with solitude, and accepting it, "her". this is when she "touched" the hand that played the bansuri flute.
-
-
well done!
-
A haunting poem with delicate, abstract and sourced words that stimulate the mind. I don't care that we don't know who "she" is - it (and "she") just work....except it is much much too long and descends into a degree of repetition. Nevertheless I liked it.
. Rewarded 6
-
-
i actually looked for ways to shorten it, but this was as short as i could get it. each part represents a day spent in the wilderness, during which no other humans were encountered. "she" is solitude herself, ambiguously personified, in ways that carefully avoided assigning physical attributes since she represents a disembodied principle.
-
-
sorry
I'll have to come back to this, I got lost at "dry waters purled and pooled", my mind can't picture that. -
By the by do you play flute like you write poetry
Still enjoying the above poem. Much thought, much grace in it.
-
Excellent poem ...
I see Debs agrees, as he has said just below here. I'm sure you already knew that, of course.
My biggest question here is: who is "she"? The poem doesn't explain that, nor does the title. Also, like Debs, I'm not really much up to going into the technical aspects of this. I had a nasty fall last night after work and am still not feeling up to snuff, having had a lot of trouble sleeping last night.
I will say that this is much better than most "free verse" I've seen, and I hestitate to even label it like that. You really do have an excellent vocabulary, although on occasion I feel that a word here or there might be a bit "overwrought" as well: "bamboo melodies" seems out of place with all the imagery here of North American wilderness, and there are a few other places that seemed odd as well. However, in the main, this is such a tour de force that I don't think any of those minor things really matter.
All in all, great poem.
. Rewarded 8
-
-
"she" is solitude.
the flutes i brought into the wilderness with me were bamboo. one of them is in my picture here.
-
-
Dude, this is wonderful. The imagery is dense, but the narrative is interesting and engaging. At this moment I am occupied with too many things to align my thoughts on this at any technical level. It appears to be a little overwraught at a few places, and some of those adjectives are burdensome in the first one!
I see a new voice and style, and could very well relate to this more than your previous posts (equally rich!). Will try to post a more educated comment if I manage to align my scattered thoughts!
D
. Rewarded 8
-
-
Thanks man! The adjectives were barking at me in a few places as I wrote, and I could neither do without them, nor be happy with them. Yet the poem also had a life of its own, and I did my best to allow that life to manifest.
-
Adding your comment:
1 - 24 of 24
