in search of lessons

 as disciple to master

early in my poetic journey

I felt as disciple to master

when I sought to understand the natural world,

I wandered the woods in search of lessons,

hiked up and down mountains

to figure out their stories,

watched carefully the seasons,

looked through each lens I could find at the Earth:

the geological, the zoological, the botanical, the meteorological,

the constancy of a mountain top,

the ephemeral moments of a wildflower,

the enduring will of a tree,

like the Earth’s contours, I have been transformed by a stream,

my pulse quickened by a bear, an elk, an owl,

I have sought to know the children

so that I can know the mother,

we come from Gaia,

and we should know her well,

before we embark on our own paths.

by Henry H. Walker

November 26, ‘22

Cabin on the Creek: A Constancy

 

A Constancy of Place

the Cabin on the Creek has been a constant for over 80 years,

a last homely house, hard by the national park and LeConte Creek,

rooms have been added, renovations, additions,

even more comforting within its walls,

all of this while so much else drops away,

changes out of recognition:

we lose people, neighboring houses,

trees we have loved,

yet Jean’s Dream remains true to itself,

a place, a space, 

where the body can be held and cared for

while the soul can relax and remember

the healing within a tumbling stream,

within a mothering forest where

plants speak to each other

and help each other to hold the light and be themselves,

where the creek’s mysteries reveal 

in a minnow, in a crawfish, in a pebble,

and in the drop, the calling of the sea,

a place where kingfishers, sometimes blue herons, hunt,

where black bears play in the pools

and pass through on their way to and from adventures,

we have a friend 

whose love of family and nature

can fully flower here,

she told me this fall how much she appreciates

the constancy of the Cabin on the Creek

within the whirlwind that is her, and our life these days.

by Henry H. Walker

December 17, ‘22