Yet down we must go, the river and I
take our leave of the murky, midway world
far from these falcon hinterlands
now, muffled and watery are our steps
now a madhouse tumble
Such faith there was in that first dawning
cushioning of moss on rock
the breakthrough of nascent waters
and Curlew cries, enough to stop a heart
- yet down we must go, the river and I
Down where dazed and wool-rimed newborns
nuzzle yearly, leeward of sheltering ewes.
And guardian breath of dog and man blows
misty, like unheard words to God to please
take our leave of the murky, midway world
In a rush like raptor wings over boulder
and froth, the pell-mell pull and tumble.
Drop by watery drop, thin and bloodless
arms reaching forth for Hiraeth
far from these falcon hinterlands
The valleys so mild and green as innocence
tempt time to loiter. Flat bedded meadows
full to flowering, where cows lean in to drink
the path ahead all silted, shallow banked
now, muffled and watery are our steps
A last turn into that stretch we know as death
eager as eels to finalize or as youthful salmon
in their first leap of faith. The wide bay's agape
with its swallowing seas; precipitous the plunge
now a madhouse tumble.
- Hiraeth – from Welsh – a longing for home
For my MTB prompt: Cascading in Fives we are writing a Cascade style of poetry. It is a Hexaverse poem with quintain stanzas, reusing each line of the first stanza as a last line refrain in subsequent stanzas. There are no other rules, the topic is optional but I chose to mirror it with this riparian theme and re-use five lines as opener from my poem dedicated to Ted Hughes Hewing out some Hughes.
PoetryPix 