Here’s two sweet ones from my friend Bob Carlson.
Canoeing the Border
It all comes into focus here –
lost bays and calling loons ,
tough cedars and soft ferns ,
ancient dappled granite ,
endless mystic islands ,
and clear blue waters dancing
As our rhythmic paddle strokes
Glide us to an evening camp
Near a waterfall that rushes
constant through the night ,
Under a sky changing colors ,
even as we sleep .
bc
Diamondhead Peak, Wyoming
Sun like a diamond
cutting the pines ,
Wind like a river ,
moving my mind ,
Across time and space ,
the fabric of life –
backward and east
point of my birth,
forward and west
point of my death –
Cutting and moving
a mountain of gems ,
Cutting and moving
until this dream ends .
bc
I like Bob’s poems!
They made me think of this poem by Johann Gottfried Herder (1744-1803):
Das Leben
Ein Traum, ein Traum ist unser Leben
Auf Erden hier.
Wie Schatten auf den Wogen schweben
Und schwinden wir.
Und messen unsre trägen Tritte
Nach Raum und Zeit.
Und sind (und wissen’s nicht) in Mitte
Der Ewigkeit.
Life
A dream, a dream is our life
here on earth.
Like shadows on the billows
we float and vanish.
And measure our slothful steps
by space and time.
And are (and know it not) in the midst
of eternity.
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