Altering.
~~ ~ ~~
I start as a brook
in the distant hills
which beginning
in droplets clinging
together passes through
rills between tiny ridges, spills
down small land-slides,tumbles in
miniature waterfalls to join streamlets
in ripples and sliding hurries
over shiny pebbles, breaching
ridged beds where frothing in bubbles
I rush to mingle with deeper waters
but stop to chatter under low willows
banked in sidings before altering
my tune to a baritoned river.
Then no more warbling in creeks
for me so bowling slower I walk to greet
other waters converging like tenors in
choric excitement, drowning me
out with ocean-voiced roars belonging
to power as wide-mouth basso eases
my weak trills into full sea-song.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
~~~ ~ ~ ~~~
Yet I will ever
know myself
as a brook
springing
from hill-height
dashing between
granite nooks
and crannies
delighting
to brim
over stoniest beds
where my hum
is welcomed
by mossy pebbles
and where birds come
to drink and wet
feet and feathers
in my warm shallows
before I roll on
having to settle
for large water duets
and lost then
my previous whispers,
forgot the soft solo
of mountain's clear creek
in a deafening
fortissimo as ocean
knows only choral singing
for the final
~ ~ ~ ~
voice-destiny
~ ~ ~
of tiny me.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
-
Author:
Fay Slimm. (
Offline) - Published: July 14th, 2020 03:11
- Comment from author about the poem: Out for another airing this effort at stream-song - - do hope you enjoy.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 37
- Users favorite of this poem: Goldfinch60, benevolentbluebabe
Offline)
Comments5
And each time i read the result of your poetic pens journey across the parchment of creation, one can still discern the springing brook that was you still racing across those shiney pebbles with a natural freshness for the day.
You have just made my day again dear poet friend as I wondered if readers would get the feel of that race that soon has to slow at deeper waters....... my thank yous and true for your lovely comment D.A.
Those streams of wonderful soprano always enhance the bass of the seas wide glory.
Superb write Fay, into favourites this on goes.
Andy
Thank you for listing this little effort along with your favourities dear Andy - so so pleased you enjoyed the read.
A magical journey from dribble to ocean.
Ha - you nailed the subject and yes the journey is ever a miracle as the little dribble becomes a great ocean in its final home. Thanks Mike for the visit and comment.
Your verbal journey reminds me of Smetana's symphonic poem Die Moldau, sonically recreating the journey of a great river from its mountain-brook rivulets merging with other waters and tumbling into the vast universal sea. A great image in itself, and a great metaphor... thanks for a sweet reminder deftly crafted. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gTKsHwqaIr4
Smetana brings it magically alive this race of small rivulets to merge with ocean........ am so pleased my few words reminded you of such a masterpiece.
these words were long overdue an airing my friend...
and I am sure they are familiar but no less enjoyed in the here and now as they were in them yesterdays... a stream of poetic joy from its source to the ocean.... N x
Oh - this is so kind of you - a lovely comment that lifts my heart - - thanking you wery muchly .................................x
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