I love this place beneath the cliff.
The sun does not shine here all winter.
The water flows and the water
stops itself in the cold and the water
finds a new way. I remember
how quiet it was when I told you
what you did not want to hear.
Perhaps the clock kept keeping time
but the moon stopped.
I think of how much has changed
since then. And how much
life is the same. The silence
here is beautifully made. It is more than
the small sound of the moving
river. It is more than memory.
Suffering is not the only truth.
There is joy. There is grace.
There is peace.
Walking on the River Ice
January 21, 2013 by Rosemerry
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“…the water finds a new way…Suffering is not the only truth….”
This is one of those lush poems that you can linger with a spell. I continually unfurls, revealing more and more. I bet it’s even so for you who penned it. “No surprise for the poet; no surprise for the reader.”
gorgeous, honey. i LOVE this.
To start with such a specific place, beneath that cliff along the river, and then to open the poem to the personal is exactly how to unfold this meditation. Superb!