A parting poem . . . for all who have been so kind over the years, many of whom have drifted away now too


Beginning To Know / Wildwood Pond

each of us grew up
knowing nothing about the beginning
W. S. Merwin, "Beginners"



Coming in the evening to the pond
And the steep slope of spring grass,
Stones that tip and slip from the ridge
With each rainfall and footfall, from
The brown reeds greening again and
The willow leaning into its reflection,
There is the speech of the frogs beginning,
Saying their one story that will become
The sound of water if we come too close,
And so some few of us have learned
In the solitude of old age and found place
The thing we find most difficult - to
Simply stay and listen to what began
In a time before there was time and
How across all the years of our lives
We have come to hear it again and again,
Beginning to know it is our story too.





Poetry by countryfog
Read 698 times
Written on 2014-06-19 at 14:21

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Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
A fine poem, Fog. It's been a while. Despite your comment, I hope that this isn't the last time we hear from you.
2014-06-21



As always, it is such a pleasure to read your words, my friend.

We at BirdBrains cannot count ourselves among the wise, but I love the language too, and I enjoy the experience of reading the poem. Once I commented on a piece by dear jim, how much I cherish poetry that welcomes me into its world. Your talent for description shines here, as it always does, and I thank you for your kindness to me, very much indeed :>)
2014-06-19



Especially love the language of this--with sounds every bit as subtle and complex as the sounds of the pond you describe:
reeds greening. rainfall-footfall. tip-slip. All striking pairings of words.

I too think that wisdom so very often comes late, in the culmination of our experience and the lessons life has so patiently taught us.
2014-06-19