I had an experience recently which helped me understand that my analytical, metaphor seeking mind has been working overtime for quite a while. It will take some practice, I believe, to not strive for understanding so much of the time. I'm getting better at noticing things of this nature, a by-product of this process for which I am very grateful.
Here are two poems that I wrote that again have a water focus. The first one was written when I was in the thick of delving into the sadness of loss. The second came as I was working my way back out the other side - a direct result of one of those metaphoric connections that I experienced right after a polarity treatment. I remember biking by the outlet of Great Pond in Belgrade Lakes and watching the water pouring into Long Pond. It was loud and powerful, but then I noticed beyond the turbulent water there was a lovely moment of settling - and beyond that was stillness and peace. Both there together with everything in between... ever-changing...:)
Whitewater
Thunderous waves
crashing over rocks, fallen trees.
Powerful currents
going wherever they please.
Everything changes
when floodwaters roar through,
making it difficult to know
what to do.
Boundaries alter,
creating unrest and despair
and the need to reach out
to people who care.
It’s important to think, but
acknowledging what is felt
is the key to getting
the ice to melt.
Yes, in order to move
the water must flow,
and it always knows
the way to go.
Stagnation doesn’t work
in this dynamic world,
so feel the power, ride the waves,
let your self be unfurled.
crashing over rocks, fallen trees.
Powerful currents
going wherever they please.
Everything changes
when floodwaters roar through,
making it difficult to know
what to do.
Boundaries alter,
creating unrest and despair
and the need to reach out
to people who care.
It’s important to think, but
acknowledging what is felt
is the key to getting
the ice to melt.
Yes, in order to move
the water must flow,
and it always knows
the way to go.
Stagnation doesn’t work
in this dynamic world,
so feel the power, ride the waves,
let your self be unfurled.
Sarah Carlson
Feb. 6, 2008
Turbulence
Boiling, churning, scouring -
wihitewater ravages as it flows.
Bedrock tumbles, soil loosens,
roots become exposed.
Surging waters alter the
landscape and that place
is never again quite the same.
But the torrent
eventually settles,
provides relief for
saturated banks weakened
by the barrage.
As the raging subsides
the way opens and the
flow continues anew.
There can be beauty in both
turbulence and calm,
but still waters after a storm
reflect whatever goodness
that enfolds them.
Vigorous trees, tranquil hills,
silver lined clouds in
a radiant sky illuminated by
a gently setting sun.
A pristine world ready to be
treasured and enjoyed,
free from the
relentless turbulence
of what was.
Sarah Carlson
June 22, 2009
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