On the Source of the River
On the mountain rain falls, snow melts.
The source of the river is the sky.
So it is that the source of love is not within reach
But flows over me and carves my every direction.
The source of the river is the spring. So it is
That I can never go back to the source of love
but it spends itself constantly on my behalf;
So it is that the very earth is between us
but the very earth gives a way to us in the shape
of a river. The source of the river is a bog.
Like energy, love has no direction. It can be hidden
as potential until the porous ground can hold
no more and it breaks into acceleration
embanked by our lives, carrying us beyond
ourselves towards a wider body evaporating into the sky
Wonderful beyond measure, Jeff…unless one uses a slide rule. *g* I am always amazed with the way you weave such intricate connections into poetry. Some day maybe you’ll show me the secret? *g*
W-wait! I thought I was learning it from you!
This is what happens when you think you’re learning from me!
there once was a poet named Jeff
who wasn’t feeling himself
what he thought was verse
turned out to be worse
and the crap was moved to the shelf
(the crap being my haiku, of course!)
Was wondering when we’d see a new poem from you! This was well worth the wait. Love the idea of love as potential
The source of this beautiful poem is you, Jeff.
The rhythm of this is as superb as the vision, JS. I particularly like the line “hidden / as potential until the porous ground / can hold no more”.
Ok. A new favorite poem. Outstanding.
Lovely, really. Beautiful pace and rhythm, lovely circularity.
Whoa! This one. Yes!