In the woods stood a bridge,
ten wooden slats and a railing,
stretching over a dancing stream.
I stood and watched
while the music played,
a timpani of water over rocks,
water over rocks,
until I felt the beat in my hands,
in my feet, in my chest—
until the rocks themselves
took the shape of music,
a bass note from a boulder,
a tenor made of stone,
a cappella water droplets
singing arias as they fell.
In the glinting flash of sunlight,
the resonance of rustling leaves,
the swirl and dash of water,
there formed a symphony of stream and earth
and me.
and me.
8 comments:
These words form a song with a beat that is catching. I can also feel the music through the rhythm of your poem. Your first photo looks like a fine place to rest, and I love the Header.
That’s exactly what the River Clun does when it tumbles and trips over the stones piled up near the 300 year old bridge.
I love to listen to the water symphony late at night, when all the lights are extinguished and the only other noise is the owl hooting in the horse chestnut tree.
The sound of falling water is always nice, and you've captured it cleverly.
I have heard voices even when close to a stream. Water has been around for some of the longest time on this planet.I like the piano waterfall.
I'm there. Did you mean singling? It works but I thought maybe typo.
XO
WWW
Amigo (a) estou dando uma passadinha no Blog com muito prazer e ficarei sempre, passando aqui. Um grande abraço: Manoel Limoeiro de: Recife – PE.
Um bom de semana com as graças de: Deus.
Visite meu Blog comunitário por favor: www.grupounidoderodafogo.blogspot.com.br
Recife, 28 de maio de 2015.
Thanks, Barb. The header is a photo of my back yard and I've often rested on that very bench in the photo :)
Friko - we see things much the same way.
Thanks, Furry Gnome.
Water voices are always speaking, eh OOTP?
Sharp eyes, WWW. Thanks :)
Obrigado Manoel.
Pauline, I think I can hear the music from just reading your words. How beautiful.
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