Advice Han Shan Might Have Given Me

. . . for Pony

 

 

 

Yes, you too are recluse, having left the city dust

Behind and come to green hills where a spring

Seeps and gathers and becomes the shallow stream,

And how often you have come to see it differently,

Now deepening when rain has reached it through

The overhanging trees, diminishing when only

The hard sun falls into it.  In our leaving we came

To find the place we would never have to leave,

Though now I think you stay to find the poems

Hidden beneath the surface of any words you yet

Have come to, and if you are to not come and go

But truly stay it cannot be in each momentary

Appearance of things  . . . it took me many years

Too to see it is the deep stones that make the song,

The diversion of a theme into its endless variations.

Write the rhythm of the stream, not the water.





Poetry by countryfog
Read 611 times
Written on 2015-04-02 at 16:39

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Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
I am a water man myself, an impressionist, but you've stated your case with characteristic grace.
2015-04-04



Your departure from the city was your arrival. You've come to the point where you no longer need Han Shan's advice--you know most of the answers yourself.

Meticulously written and atmospheric. The stones at the bottom of the stream have become priceless gems.
2015-04-03


one trick pony The PoetBay support member heart!
i will share my response tomorrow in a poem. it's written, but must settle.
2015-04-03



What a beautiful thought, and poem. I was particularly struck by the last line. Perfection!
Ashe
2015-04-03


josephus The PoetBay support member heart!
And that grasshopper... Is poetry... and life!

Well done my friend, well done, indeed.

Joe
2015-04-02