Eighteen Seconds Before Sunrise*
Is there anything closer to heaven,
more sublime, more perfect,
than a walk in these northern woods,
just before sunrise?
I cannot think of any.
The winged migrants are
almost all back now.
They riot in the treetops,
each outdoing the next.
Some will riot their songs
most of the day;
it's mating season, you know.
I hope you get the girl, my friends.
Glassy calm lake surface,
and silence except for the treetop riot.
Slight cool breeze against my face,
and the sun peeks over
the canopy of the far shore.
Their is much majesty left in the world,
though is fades fast,
under our destructive ways.
And I want to see that majesty,
taste it, wrap my pen around it.
But right now, I am still in love
with these northern woods, these lakes.
And it is good. If this moment
lasted until the end of time,
what else would I need?
* My thanks/apologies to Sigur Ros for the title.
No, I have not forgotten this poem.
ReplyDeleteIt doesn't just speak of you...it IS you.
It should be me. I wrote it. ;)
ReplyDeleteThanks, my friend.
I have been enjoying your blog, at least what I have perused of it. I especially enjoyed what caught my eye yesterday when I first had a look - your commemoration of Arne Naess. I admire your patience with some of your commenters who perhaps are "light ecologists" and aren't quite at a point of understanding the deep connections that all organisms on earth have with one another.
ReplyDeleteOlson is an author who I have read as a boy and re-read frequently.I see that he is one of your favored authors. I saw some parallels in Olson's young years in the Arrowhead to my life among the Nunamiut Eskimo. I was shocked a few years ago to read "Down From Basswood" and see a racist side to Olson that I never knew existed. Now I realize that we all harbor blind sides like the kid from the British Isles and "Grizzled" who offered comments. Your attitude of tolerance and acceptance of their comments to further eventual education is a wise attitude. The same with Olson: I didn't throw away his books because of his prejudice toward Native Americans.
I really agree with your line in "18 Seconds...:
"But right now, I am still in love
with these northern woods, these lakes. And it is good. If this moment lasted until the end of time, what else would I need?"
I feel the same way.
I look forward to reading and learning from your blog.
Northland,
ReplyDeleteThank you. I am glad you are here. I look forward to getting to know you better.
Peace
Very beautiful poem - love the sense of riot in the canopy and yet being within the space of silence!
ReplyDeletebest wishes!
Thank you, Puerhan. I consider that high praise from a poet such as yourself. :)
ReplyDeletePeace to you
It is indeed the very best of times... so pregnant with possibility... those few moments before sunrise. The day just seems to go downhill from there.
ReplyDeleteThe woods and seashore are SO full of chatter and excitement in the early hours these days, as they were when you wrote this post.
"I hope you get the girl, my friends."
What a kindred soul you are to nature's creatures :)
flandrumhill,
ReplyDeleteYout comment made me smile. I certainly hope that I am that kindred spirit to nature's creatures, as you put it.
Peace to you
I just saw your reply, you're very welcome. I enjoyed reading it all over again!
ReplyDeleteBest wishes.