Just Plain Foolish

Just a chance for an old-fashioned, simple storyteller to say what needs to be said.

Monday, July 16, 2007

One Deep Breath: bodies of water

I grew up near the Ohio, and always imagined that Jordan's mighty waters must stretch like that, or like the Mississippi, near my grandparents' house, bearing barge after barge, headed from the North down to New Orleans. My uncle used to tell me about riverboats, and the joy of listening to the calliopes, dreaming that one day he would be the musician on board.

Rolling brown waters
Mighty river, road, dream, home
Whispers lullabyes

One day, my husband who, had been there, told me that the Mighty Jordan was no bigger than an Appalachian waterway, and my imagination still wants to make those banks in the desert as rich as the ones back home, cool and inviting, lifegiving, shaping the rock and the living world around it.

Sensuous green hills.
Running water cuts a path
Through living limestone

Folks are discovering that even now, those waters can still sustain us: creating a draw for people needing to "get away from it all". Ironically, one of the tourist draws was the home of a Civil War hermit for a long time.

Old Man's Cave waterfalls
Tourists hike, canoe, drive
Near the damp hermitage.

Wet diamonds flash
As forest yields to sunlight
Paddling downstream.

And other things have had drawing power for as long as people have known they were there. People think of cold mountain waters from snowmelt, but sometimes, the water goes deep in the earth, warms up, and creates sanctuary even in the coldest parts of winter.

Little crawdad scoots
Between emerging bubbles
Winter warm spring crick.


Shining rainbow fish
Leap from wave to wave dancing
Near the island ferry

Rain has come and gone
Puddles steam on the asphalt
No relief today.

From my husband:

Silver between the buildings,
Green at the water's edge,
No end in sight.

More refreshing waters at One Deep Breath

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Blogger Roswila said...

Very nice haibun. I enjoyed the sense of history. I particularly like these:

Sensuous green hills.
Running water cuts a path
Through living limestone

Rain has come and gone
Puddles steam on the asphalt
No relief today.

7/19/2007 11:19 AM  
Blogger tumblewords said...

I agree with Roswila - a lovely post.

7/19/2007 8:12 PM  
Blogger Crafty Green Poet said...

Very enjoyable journey you take us on in this post.

7/20/2007 12:32 AM  
Blogger the heartful blogger said...

I love "little crawdad scoots", makes me want to go stand over a river and peer into it.

7/20/2007 3:09 AM  
Blogger Plain Foolish said...

Thank you all. I've always felt as though the rivers I grew up among were a kind of living connection to the history of the land.

And yes, I love watching crawdads scoot along the bottoms of cricks - nothing quite like them.

7/20/2007 7:05 AM  

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