Friday, May 21, 2010

the hollow log

i like that my life
allows me to say
with my heart
let the river
carry me
under the trees


let
my body
be a hollowed log
carried
from
eddie to whorl
and
let me
drift
under a sky
scattered
by branches and leaves


let me feel
this quiet river
broken
into tiny ripples
on the bark
of my passing
twigs and branches
dragging like fingers


and let me
drift
forever onwards
turning
and shaping
and feeling
and being
this tiny space
whole and alone

entirely connected
to the all of everything
in the little universe
of my knowing

14 comments:

Dan Gurney said...

steven: canuck Rumi

Kathleen said...

Did you read my mind?

Rachel Fenton said...

I'm not sure I could trust the water to carry me - I'd be afraid of sinking! Lovely thoughts though.

Lorenzo — Alchemist's Pillow said...

Following up on Dan's comment:
the golden fish: everyday epiphanies from the canuck Rumi

Bonnie, Original Art Studio said...

I forgot what I intended to say after I read Dan's comment. I have a feeling this might stick steven. You Canuck Rumi ...

Loved your word stream.

Barry said...

The Rumi analogy is not out of place Steven, or exaggerated. He would be pleased with what he finds here.

ellen abbott said...

When I was guiding on the river, sometimes making and breaking camp was so much work I wondered why I did it. then, canoe packed, I would push off into the current and remember.

Jenny Stevning said...

Absolutely beautiful! (sigh)

Elisabeth said...

I'm late home tonight Steven with little time to blog, but I find I look out for your blog especially among others. To me it measures the passing of each day.

It's nourishing.

Reya Mellicker said...

Perfectly, perfectly said. I am drifting just from reading the words.

Those branches are looking mighty green, Steven. Summer is coming!

hope said...

That makes me want to fashion a Huck Finn raft and float down the river. Cool!

steven said...

hello my bloggy chums! - english by birth - in fact my body is entirely english. my mind - well i'd link it to canada. my heart - english. my soul - well i first met sufi's at a showing of the film of gurdjieff's "meetings with remarkable men". it has been outwards inwards upwards downwards inside out since then. my soul belongs to the love that connects all things known and unknown. sacred and otherwise. everything that is, could be should be, would be, will be, has been, might be, wants to be. here i am. thankyou so much. steven

Tumblewords: said...

Words and thoughts superb!

Suzi Smith said...

this is beautiful... have had a wander around your space... a lovely place to come to!