An introduction to my brook

Well, I think it is time to introduce my brook. I've talked a lot about the river that I walk along - the Sandy River which flows from the mountains near Saddleback to meet up with the Kennebec River and eventually into the Atlantic Ocean near Popham Beach. But I've also had many wonderful experiences by the brook near my home. It is called Barker Brook and is just a short walk on a woods trail to a little rocky beach. My children spent many hours of their childhood at this very spot - catching crayfish and just enjoying being in the great outdoors. We have a very funny family video that features Barry walking out on a fallen tree above some whitewater. He made quite a show (the video was to send to his parents in Florida) of balancing and maneuvering his way along the branches. And then he took both children (who were then quite young) out there for an adventure to wow the grandparents. Of course, the water was only a few inches deep, but you couldn't tell that from my vantage point with the camera! So this little beach has become a real retreat for me. I tend to go down there to think, to process and just to be. Several upcoming poems were written about my times 'down back' as we call it.

The one I'm putting out to you today is about a time when I went snowshoeing along the brook and to the spot where we had dinner that evening a few days before Barry died. The brook flows along a steep bank that separates it from the river and then makes a turn to flow right into it at a sweet little sandy beach. At this spot you get the serenity of the wide open river on one side and the activity of the waters of the brook as they turn and rush over rocks and trees just before emptying into the Sandy on the other side.

Hmmm... I just had another memory, so here is an aside. When the flowers that people gave us after Barry died had withered from their hard work of trying to cheer us up, I used to take them to this spot and throw them into the brook - and then watch them join with the flow of the river and disappear. It seemed a fitting way of letting them go.

So back to this poem - you know how you hear the term every so often about the importance of connecting with your 'inner child'? I used to wonder just what that meant, even though I work with young children for a living. And, though one of my strengths as a teacher is connecting with children just as they are, it never occurred to me that I might actually have an inner child that needed my attention. But another wonderful aspect of this journey is well - that is exactly what happened...:)

Lesson From a Wintry Brook

Purposeful brook making its way
through woods and fields
around rocks and fallen trees
to the river.
The brook had something to say today
as I walked along its banks.
I watched its course as it met
the river.
Edges caked with slushy ice,
only the stronger current made it through.
As it merged with the water from the river
it curled back, swirling in indecision.
But after some time it made its way,
went with the flow.
The merged waters harbored chunks of ice
that moved easily with the current.
Just there to be carried until they melted
or were set down.

Purposeful little girl making her way
through happy times,
through desperate days
to adulthood.
Her edges frozen,
but the strong currents of her courage
and her will have made it through.
She remains unsure at times,
but the goodness of who she was
is awakening in me
in a way that I can acknowledge.
We, together,
are understanding the pieces
of the load we have been carrying.
Some we have melted,
others we have set down.

Purposeful little brook, purposeful little girl
both making their way, moving on,
flowing into the unknown.

Sarah Carlson

January 11, 2007