Whispers of the heart
swirl in the sanguine breeze
words sung of the soul
breathe love's never-ending song ...
swirl in the sanguine breeze
words sung of the soul
breathe love's never-ending song ...
Standing Barefoot on Rocky Ground ..... a long journey's reprise
Come walk with me a mile ...
Walk on without our burden’s weighty shoes ,
warily trudging over the long rocky
pathway of a lifetime in my soul ;
a final edifying voyage to freedom .
The winds of change are blowing briskly
as we walk charily over the long
rock-strewn passageway.
I shed these boots and skin, no longer fitting
my scared, blistered and callused soles .
As time slowly passes ,
this craggy terrain has evolved
from a two-way passageway,
into one-way jagged forage …
Standing barefooted and naked on rocky ground ,
dark sunken sleepless eyes scan
the rolling vista as the wind blows star dust
from the halo around the sun ,
blurring the delicate wispy cirrus clouds .
The sun’s radiance paints a frozen ice crystal azure
into a vivid aura of prisms’ glittering corona.
Kaleidoscope rainbows adorn the closest of solar stars .
There's something in the ethereal air
that leaves my soul unsettled ,
grasping for an allusive stability
as rumors of gold elude me ...
The pain and suffering has vanished
as if the body and soul have separated ,
numbness from the ache , severed nerves
sharp reflection on serrated rocky edges ,
deadened useless flesh cut to the bone
by misjudged obstacles encountered enduringly.
The barefooted spirit travels on ,
suffused in the solar spectrum’s dust ;
yearning , longing to saunter
above and beyond the bloated feathery pillows ;
cumulus clouds finally resting at peace .
Dipping these benumbed toes ,
heart’s weeping lesions
into a healing bath from the bowers of bliss ...
An unfinished life
of an open ended dream ,
reluctantly waking to take the last
surrendering steps beyond the threshold ...
A long and winding rocky journey’s destiny
draws near
The halo around the sallow moon
illuminates an understanding firmament ;
the gloaming celestial sphere’s
pending imminent soulful rain awaits
the metamorphosis at the brink of dawn .
A shower of heaven's teardrops shall mourn
the loss of form as the spirit of soul lives on ,
barefooted ,
naked and free
like the dust in the wind
absorbed eternally...
Walk on without our burden’s weighty shoes ,
warily trudging over the long rocky
pathway of a lifetime in my soul ;
a final edifying voyage to freedom .
The winds of change are blowing briskly
as we walk charily over the long
rock-strewn passageway.
I shed these boots and skin, no longer fitting
my scared, blistered and callused soles .
As time slowly passes ,
this craggy terrain has evolved
from a two-way passageway,
into one-way jagged forage …
Standing barefooted and naked on rocky ground ,
dark sunken sleepless eyes scan
the rolling vista as the wind blows star dust
from the halo around the sun ,
blurring the delicate wispy cirrus clouds .
The sun’s radiance paints a frozen ice crystal azure
into a vivid aura of prisms’ glittering corona.
Kaleidoscope rainbows adorn the closest of solar stars .
There's something in the ethereal air
that leaves my soul unsettled ,
grasping for an allusive stability
as rumors of gold elude me ...
The pain and suffering has vanished
as if the body and soul have separated ,
numbness from the ache , severed nerves
sharp reflection on serrated rocky edges ,
deadened useless flesh cut to the bone
by misjudged obstacles encountered enduringly.
The barefooted spirit travels on ,
suffused in the solar spectrum’s dust ;
yearning , longing to saunter
above and beyond the bloated feathery pillows ;
cumulus clouds finally resting at peace .
Dipping these benumbed toes ,
heart’s weeping lesions
into a healing bath from the bowers of bliss ...
An unfinished life
of an open ended dream ,
reluctantly waking to take the last
surrendering steps beyond the threshold ...
A long and winding rocky journey’s destiny
draws near
The halo around the sallow moon
illuminates an understanding firmament ;
the gloaming celestial sphere’s
pending imminent soulful rain awaits
the metamorphosis at the brink of dawn .
A shower of heaven's teardrops shall mourn
the loss of form as the spirit of soul lives on ,
barefooted ,
naked and free
like the dust in the wind
absorbed eternally...
I am the song from purling river bottom undulate currents
sung with a feral voice the river overflowing tears
awakened to feel the ache a loneliness wash o’er
deep big eddy’s swirling macrocosmic churn
singingly soothing arrhythmic bouldered waters’ roll on
silently smoothing prehistoric igneous stone
temporal memories' artifacts fade away simpatico
like sedimentary fingerprints insipidly erode
river-song coursing sweetly rogue to and fro
ever changing undercurrents ebb and flow
rolling down the cascading wild riverbed winding-road
unchained from higher rocky mountain’s forked throne
the river's hallowed confluence ; spellbound oceans' beck and call
drawn by enamelled yellow moon’s gathering push and pull . .
metamorphosis incarnates the highest mountain’s stone's throw
unto a single grain of distant shorelines’ heart and soul . . .
sung with a feral voice the river overflowing tears
awakened to feel the ache a loneliness wash o’er
deep big eddy’s swirling macrocosmic churn
singingly soothing arrhythmic bouldered waters’ roll on
silently smoothing prehistoric igneous stone
temporal memories' artifacts fade away simpatico
like sedimentary fingerprints insipidly erode
river-song coursing sweetly rogue to and fro
ever changing undercurrents ebb and flow
rolling down the cascading wild riverbed winding-road
unchained from higher rocky mountain’s forked throne
the river's hallowed confluence ; spellbound oceans' beck and call
drawn by enamelled yellow moon’s gathering push and pull . .
metamorphosis incarnates the highest mountain’s stone's throw
unto a single grain of distant shorelines’ heart and soul . . .
harlon rivers
note: ...hand written with sick dog in lap
...feeling as helpless and insignificant as a grain of sand
... and as for the clouds , . . just let them roll away
Postscript: a photo with the thought
from my "Word Whisperer" poetry blog
http://harlonrivers.blogspot.com/
note: ...hand written with sick dog in lap
...feeling as helpless and insignificant as a grain of sand
... and as for the clouds , . . just let them roll away
Postscript: a photo with the thought
from my "Word Whisperer" poetry blog
http://harlonrivers.blogspot.com/
There are traces of you in the rainbow
Wisps of your vast colour palette, paint the mystical sky
The Song Sparrows’ song
reminds me of your melodic whistle in the summer breeze
The resolute silence your grounded soulful solitude implied.
There are traces of you in the rivers, where water falls from high
Where the ocean’s waves reach some distant shoreline
I hear the sound of your voice roar in the passing thunderstorm
Your love light shines like a moonlit troubadour.
There are traces of you in the garden
Many beautiful roses exposed your fragile side
Among the abundant blossoms, it’s effortless to imagine you here
Your peaceful spirit adorns this lovely space where love resides.
There are traces of you in the moonlit night
Glimpses of your shining heart are found in the infinite stars
Your aura is like the harvest moon’s angelic halo
A beacon of compassion for the indifference in other world’s apart.
There are traces of you in the early morning’s dew drops
In the amazing grace of the setting sun
Your thoughtful pondering evolved from life’s vast journey
An air of ardent calmness, quieting the fear and emotional fray inside.
There are traces of you in an old song
You fought for the light of truth with love,
With the fidelity of an iron fistful of mercy, in a velvet glove
The kind of muse that left me proud to be your son.
There are traces of your heart and soul
as your treasured memories grow afar
There are traces of your loving spirit in this smile
An ancient spiritual essence lives in every breath I take
Your devotion always walked with me the extra mile.
The merciful surrender of an unfinished journey,
Left traces of your verve in the depths of my soul
Those traces of love’s grasp make this life worth living
Infinitely, eternally, spiritually whole.
There are traces of you in this mirror
I see your vivid reflection in these eyes
Your every breath will always be cherished
Your life’s traces remain forevermore enfolded
within these teardrops in my eyes...
Wisps of your vast colour palette, paint the mystical sky
The Song Sparrows’ song
reminds me of your melodic whistle in the summer breeze
The resolute silence your grounded soulful solitude implied.
There are traces of you in the rivers, where water falls from high
Where the ocean’s waves reach some distant shoreline
I hear the sound of your voice roar in the passing thunderstorm
Your love light shines like a moonlit troubadour.
There are traces of you in the garden
Many beautiful roses exposed your fragile side
Among the abundant blossoms, it’s effortless to imagine you here
Your peaceful spirit adorns this lovely space where love resides.
There are traces of you in the moonlit night
Glimpses of your shining heart are found in the infinite stars
Your aura is like the harvest moon’s angelic halo
A beacon of compassion for the indifference in other world’s apart.
There are traces of you in the early morning’s dew drops
In the amazing grace of the setting sun
Your thoughtful pondering evolved from life’s vast journey
An air of ardent calmness, quieting the fear and emotional fray inside.
There are traces of you in an old song
You fought for the light of truth with love,
With the fidelity of an iron fistful of mercy, in a velvet glove
The kind of muse that left me proud to be your son.
There are traces of your heart and soul
as your treasured memories grow afar
There are traces of your loving spirit in this smile
An ancient spiritual essence lives in every breath I take
Your devotion always walked with me the extra mile.
The merciful surrender of an unfinished journey,
Left traces of your verve in the depths of my soul
Those traces of love’s grasp make this life worth living
Infinitely, eternally, spiritually whole.
There are traces of you in this mirror
I see your vivid reflection in these eyes
Your every breath will always be cherished
Your life’s traces remain forevermore enfolded
within these teardrops in my eyes...
Harlon Rivers
Friday, June 13th, 2014 ...reposted- remembering Father's Day
Memories of My Father's Traces ... a tribute to my father
His influence inspires me to constantly strive
to be me a better human ...
"The mighty water falls...
landscapes this rivers great divide
Cascading walls of water soar and plunge...
From a silhouettes high and wide"
Centuries fleeting rivers flow
carved and shaped an ominous path
Fertile valleys hewn deep and wide
by raging waters wrath
This place was graced
through those centuries sage
My heart's ashes will rest strewn
where river waters yearn to pass"
...from "The River's Muse"
Memories of My Father's Traces ... a tribute to my father
His influence inspires me to constantly strive
to be me a better human ...
"The mighty water falls...
landscapes this rivers great divide
Cascading walls of water soar and plunge...
From a silhouettes high and wide"
Centuries fleeting rivers flow
carved and shaped an ominous path
Fertile valleys hewn deep and wide
by raging waters wrath
This place was graced
through those centuries sage
My heart's ashes will rest strewn
where river waters yearn to pass"
...from "The River's Muse"
Red sky at morning ... sailors take warning !!!
First dawn's light steals away over the towering Cascade Head.
A heavy autumn dew dripped from the Whaler's bow rails
as sun rays flashed like beacons from rain-forest headlands on high;
where Pacific Northwest rivers September equinox dawning ebb,
pushed us mercifully unto the chilling stiff autumn sea breeze.
Dappled sun reigning through the pinkish purple morning sky,
patchy fog adorning the awakening inshore headlands atop the bay,
shining from the pearly gate’s mission bells higher ground ,
beckoning another fisherman lost and found at sea come home...
Heaven’s lighthouse alerts the celestial sky
of the pending eminent soul journey,
highlighting the distant horizon’s
breaking swells capped of white meringue sea foam.
Sea gulls escort precious cargo's final voyage ,
gliding gracefully in the shadows of the firmament ,
our lungs filled , revitalized with the salty air's poignant elixir
Pelican vanguard's white light reflection guiding our vessel seaward ,
alone in a perfect storm...
Northwest gales stand up the ebbing tide’s uprising crescents,
waves pounding in rhythmic flow;
calling all angels, my ruminating mantra
the Clatsop Spit’s dangerous song sounds the stark reminder,
life's raucous changing seasons, prevailing winds siren’s call,
that now is nearly here ...
The countenance of flowing salty tears' liberating release ,
vast ocean's raw sheets of saltwater spray would not hide .
He just sat and stared at the seaward horizon while the telltale tears flowed
perhaps a dream of a merciful final surrender with eyes wide open ,
love coursing our vessel west where sun shines to set ;
now far beyond the visible ache ,
for mine own eyes blur ... trepidation teardrops rained as sheets of sea
The wordless conversation known , the compass full circle drawn
like the sacred salmon's cycle ends to nourish back ancient sage unto its own ,
forever beginning life , eternally drawn through river estuaries
stirred by ebbing infinite tidal pull ...
There is an oppressive weight found within paternal understanding ,
and yet , as certain as the dawn promises the inevitable setting sun ;
all things must pass as sure as all things begin ,
someone you love mos t, longest in short life ,
has come forth to break bread at sea as the torch is passed ,
sharing life for the last time comes too soon with little warning..
There was an emotional unidentifiable hollow pang ,
as if letting go gradually, yet potentially instantly,
drains every last drop of a breaking heart ache ;
strength swallows sighs lumps in throats, words better left unsaid
only cleansing tears flow, knowing when they start to purge
they might not want to stop again.
This moment's final autumn’s changing season’s waning ebb
That final riptide will forevermore change all other rivers’ flow
where oceans set mother earth's rivers free until the end of time ...
My father ... a man's man who seemed to find a peaceful Zen ;
an unfinished life was reborn that day to see it through
as my hands grasped the wheel , compass held steady.
The son to carry on the weight of love and compassionate understanding,
taught love , caught love inspired the fortitude to carry on.
As a life flashed before my eyes on that final raging Pacific sea,
instincts mused by ancient Tyees’ souls stirred
new sun's radiant rays of perception ; accepting this life on earth
would never be the same but would just simply be ,
knowing this light's shine will never glow quite the same again ,
yet radiate a more vivid luminosity...
We melded into that first day of Autumn,
falling silent , and yet our heads held high
There was nothing left to be done but pray with eyes wide open
“spirits of all oceans of mother earth …
show the sacred salmon the way to peaceful waters back home”
Few words were spoken as everything was silently said.
"To everything there is a season and a time to every purpose,
under Heaven"
The Outrage, knuckles white the wheel,
climbed mountainous long ocean swells
breaking over the giant boulder jetty ;
there rolls the mighty Columbia jaws ,
where all Rivers' confluence suffuse with vast oceans, eternally free ...
First dawn's light steals away over the towering Cascade Head.
A heavy autumn dew dripped from the Whaler's bow rails
as sun rays flashed like beacons from rain-forest headlands on high;
where Pacific Northwest rivers September equinox dawning ebb,
pushed us mercifully unto the chilling stiff autumn sea breeze.
Dappled sun reigning through the pinkish purple morning sky,
patchy fog adorning the awakening inshore headlands atop the bay,
shining from the pearly gate’s mission bells higher ground ,
beckoning another fisherman lost and found at sea come home...
Heaven’s lighthouse alerts the celestial sky
of the pending eminent soul journey,
highlighting the distant horizon’s
breaking swells capped of white meringue sea foam.
Sea gulls escort precious cargo's final voyage ,
gliding gracefully in the shadows of the firmament ,
our lungs filled , revitalized with the salty air's poignant elixir
Pelican vanguard's white light reflection guiding our vessel seaward ,
alone in a perfect storm...
Northwest gales stand up the ebbing tide’s uprising crescents,
waves pounding in rhythmic flow;
calling all angels, my ruminating mantra
the Clatsop Spit’s dangerous song sounds the stark reminder,
life's raucous changing seasons, prevailing winds siren’s call,
that now is nearly here ...
The countenance of flowing salty tears' liberating release ,
vast ocean's raw sheets of saltwater spray would not hide .
He just sat and stared at the seaward horizon while the telltale tears flowed
perhaps a dream of a merciful final surrender with eyes wide open ,
love coursing our vessel west where sun shines to set ;
now far beyond the visible ache ,
for mine own eyes blur ... trepidation teardrops rained as sheets of sea
The wordless conversation known , the compass full circle drawn
like the sacred salmon's cycle ends to nourish back ancient sage unto its own ,
forever beginning life , eternally drawn through river estuaries
stirred by ebbing infinite tidal pull ...
There is an oppressive weight found within paternal understanding ,
and yet , as certain as the dawn promises the inevitable setting sun ;
all things must pass as sure as all things begin ,
someone you love mos t, longest in short life ,
has come forth to break bread at sea as the torch is passed ,
sharing life for the last time comes too soon with little warning..
There was an emotional unidentifiable hollow pang ,
as if letting go gradually, yet potentially instantly,
drains every last drop of a breaking heart ache ;
strength swallows sighs lumps in throats, words better left unsaid
only cleansing tears flow, knowing when they start to purge
they might not want to stop again.
This moment's final autumn’s changing season’s waning ebb
That final riptide will forevermore change all other rivers’ flow
where oceans set mother earth's rivers free until the end of time ...
My father ... a man's man who seemed to find a peaceful Zen ;
an unfinished life was reborn that day to see it through
as my hands grasped the wheel , compass held steady.
The son to carry on the weight of love and compassionate understanding,
taught love , caught love inspired the fortitude to carry on.
As a life flashed before my eyes on that final raging Pacific sea,
instincts mused by ancient Tyees’ souls stirred
new sun's radiant rays of perception ; accepting this life on earth
would never be the same but would just simply be ,
knowing this light's shine will never glow quite the same again ,
yet radiate a more vivid luminosity...
We melded into that first day of Autumn,
falling silent , and yet our heads held high
There was nothing left to be done but pray with eyes wide open
“spirits of all oceans of mother earth …
show the sacred salmon the way to peaceful waters back home”
Few words were spoken as everything was silently said.
"To everything there is a season and a time to every purpose,
under Heaven"
The Outrage, knuckles white the wheel,
climbed mountainous long ocean swells
breaking over the giant boulder jetty ;
there rolls the mighty Columbia jaws ,
where all Rivers' confluence suffuse with vast oceans, eternally free ...
.... Harlon Rivers .... September 22nd . 2013
With fondest loving memories of my father's life and times shared~
So much of this day's memory is deeply repressed and each year I try to free a little bit more but each year passed has been privately circle filed, yet I try again to be set free.. Purging emotions so intense that they are nearly blacked out...I have never tried to publish any memory of this day until now although I do find hints that come to me much later after publishing some creative writing, I did not realize the basis of depth until later private moments... It was in fact the day of the Autumn Equinox a few years ago, a final birthday celebration of sorts combined with bringing the Boston Whaler Outrage, home. Dad passed 1 week later after this trip from Pancreatic cancer ...we spend the final 72 hours alone together at Hospice after his birthday..."Crossing Over"
Whistles the poignant breeze
hummingbird’s whirr
whooshing throughout
twining honeysuckle lattice
woven rootlets hidden
beheld speckled eggs
potently perfumed flowers
while away the waning hours
waxing heavenly fragrance
sweetly-scented suckled nectar
the one with eyes of a child
imbibes the spellbinding waft
bedazzled by spring’s rustling whispers
in a reverent moment's
edifying intoxication
hummingbird’s whirr
whooshing throughout
twining honeysuckle lattice
woven rootlets hidden
beheld speckled eggs
potently perfumed flowers
while away the waning hours
waxing heavenly fragrance
sweetly-scented suckled nectar
the one with eyes of a child
imbibes the spellbinding waft
bedazzled by spring’s rustling whispers
in a reverent moment's
edifying intoxication
Crawling across the arid cactus wilderness
Chasing nothing but blue skied impossible dreams
He followed the utopia of a wild exotic river wide
Meandering effortlessly through his mind made mirage
Rippling downstream along sweltering cactus shoreline
Beneath the scorching azure desert sky
Flowing at the speed of loneliness
Fleeting towards the refreshing Ocean’s tide
He searched charily through a labyrinth of chimera
While standing deliriously on the brink a sublime
Spiny leaves awakened all sense of uncertainty
Mystic static air excites his sun wilted eyes
Enticing infinite reborn senses thrive alive
Rousing imagination’s magical archive reveries
Enkindling a cornucopia of inflamed reprise
A daydream of an erotic fragrant, vibrant flower
Pricking his heart with her natural delicate demure,
Drawing blood with her coquettish cactus quills
Tantalizing a figment a poignant hallucination's thrill
Inching slowly, slithering silently,
Sensibilities frayed, heart on his sleeve
Too thirsty to drink, once bitten, twice shy
Lingering at the crossroads of an exotic oasis
The illusion a nomatic basin river courses on
Zigzags, winds turning far, deep and wide
Swerves amongst mysterious tantalizing desert flora
Hidden bashfully behind a sun faded shadow's disguise,
Her taproot in a desert spring’s bedrock
Her beauty reflected in the shine twinkling in his eyes
A prairie wolf paces on the distant horizon
Vultures are gliding in the arid desert skies
Silhouettes gracefully soaring in hazy solar disguise
Coyote, was just listening to the ethers' muted sighs
The blustering wind howled the gathering dust
Blowing the drifting barren sand astir
Over the lonesome travelers’ trail of wanton lust
Caught-up in her sticky tangled web trying to free her
"Taunt and tease Prickly Pear blossom
Share the simple life of the prairie breeze
I’m crawling through pebbles and cobbles
Over bedrock through sand dune fields to the sea
Drawn to your fertile spring water oasis surprise
The thirst quenching splendors of your dalliance astir,
The impassioned esprit your abundant soul set me free"...
Chasing nothing but blue skied impossible dreams
He followed the utopia of a wild exotic river wide
Meandering effortlessly through his mind made mirage
Rippling downstream along sweltering cactus shoreline
Beneath the scorching azure desert sky
Flowing at the speed of loneliness
Fleeting towards the refreshing Ocean’s tide
He searched charily through a labyrinth of chimera
While standing deliriously on the brink a sublime
Spiny leaves awakened all sense of uncertainty
Mystic static air excites his sun wilted eyes
Enticing infinite reborn senses thrive alive
Rousing imagination’s magical archive reveries
Enkindling a cornucopia of inflamed reprise
A daydream of an erotic fragrant, vibrant flower
Pricking his heart with her natural delicate demure,
Drawing blood with her coquettish cactus quills
Tantalizing a figment a poignant hallucination's thrill
Inching slowly, slithering silently,
Sensibilities frayed, heart on his sleeve
Too thirsty to drink, once bitten, twice shy
Lingering at the crossroads of an exotic oasis
The illusion a nomatic basin river courses on
Zigzags, winds turning far, deep and wide
Swerves amongst mysterious tantalizing desert flora
Hidden bashfully behind a sun faded shadow's disguise,
Her taproot in a desert spring’s bedrock
Her beauty reflected in the shine twinkling in his eyes
A prairie wolf paces on the distant horizon
Vultures are gliding in the arid desert skies
Silhouettes gracefully soaring in hazy solar disguise
Coyote, was just listening to the ethers' muted sighs
The blustering wind howled the gathering dust
Blowing the drifting barren sand astir
Over the lonesome travelers’ trail of wanton lust
Caught-up in her sticky tangled web trying to free her
"Taunt and tease Prickly Pear blossom
Share the simple life of the prairie breeze
I’m crawling through pebbles and cobbles
Over bedrock through sand dune fields to the sea
Drawn to your fertile spring water oasis surprise
The thirst quenching splendors of your dalliance astir,
The impassioned esprit your abundant soul set me free"...
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