teach me old canyon
the melodies folded deep
in your hidden memory
your fir-tipped ridges
teach me deep canyon
the song of thin ravines
creased among redwoods
stretched up to the sky
the strain of hogweeds
clung to hillsides like
morning mists set adrift
in rising shades of light
the sound of waters spilled
from storied slopes down
paths of moss and pebble
strewn over with time
the mystery of alders
sprawled along your curves
to the edge of thin gray sands
reshaped by the tides
i will strive with all my ears
to hear your song and fill
your ferny heart with echoes
of bansuri transpositions
In a list
Thoughts, Feelings, Interpretations, Experience:
Comments
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This is filled with beautiful images of songs, indeed. It's very soothing and I feel like being transported to a beautiful image I saw in one painting (I don't know where it exactly is).
As usual, this is profuse in metaphors that really touch me and I especially like storied slopes, mystery of alders, reshaped by the tides, song of thin ravines (wonder if she is high pitched) and of course bansuri transpositions.
Every stanza somehow speaks to me but my favorites are:
the sound of waters spilled
from storied slopes down
paths of moss and pebble
strewn over with time
the mystery of alders
sprawled along your curves
to the edge of thin gray sands
reshaped by the tides
But you know what impacts to me more, it's the experience you shared in this poem. I think some people really have a gift to get to experience life, I mean the very existence of all life around us especially nature, in a very uplifting way. It's one thing to see beautiful flowers, listen to symphony, feel the cold weather, taste the sweet wine, smell the green grass, which are what most people including me only care to do; it's another thing to experience them.
This poem and most that I've read here tell me that you are someone who make it a point that you acquaint with them beyond the five senses, you become one with them and that way you see more beauty than we are capable of, hear songs that we don't, and you always leave their place as if you had the best dance of your life. Probably, just like how ecstatic I see you now in this poem--still gliding along those canyon slopes, singing, talking, playing with the trees, water and sand as you fill the air with melodies from your bamboo flute. Just terrific images.
Thanks for sharing this.
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One of my goals as a poet, as you know, is to express, relate, and convey experiences in a way that would hopefully absorb my readers into them, giving them a taste of what I experienced.
It is fun to bring people into the eyes of a cicada, or inside the bark of an oak, or out amongst the far-flung nebulae of our galaxy. It's a place people tend not to take themselves, and when they do it's always a purely passive experience, from watching a television show or YouTube vid.
With my poetry I strive to bring people not only into contact with experiences not often encountered or reflected upon, but into contact with the very spirits of those experiences, and the spirits of each participant of that experience.
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