Soberania Rain Forest, Panama
I've come with no expectation but rainAnd discover that here it does not fall
But simply surrounds me, suspended
In somewhere not quite land nor air.
The first thing is to learn the old way
Of breathing in a green inundating sea.
I've come to a country where the language
Is not mine and realize I have no words,
Old or new, for what I see: ferns flourish
As tall as my familiar trees, and flowers
Of unnamable colors tremble on stalks
Or seem to grow in mid-air on vines.
There is no line of sight that isn't curved,
No angles or corners, nothing that isn't
Connected and part of something else.
Senses are overwhelmed by imagination:
Predators stalking prey along hidden trails
Of musk and blood through the tangle
Of dripping trees, creeping on soft silent
Pads through the tall grass that opens
And closes around their patient stealth.
Nowhere has ever seemed so permanent
As here, a single season of a thousand years.
And I begin to believe that if only I stayed,
Rooted, speechless, I just might live forever.
Poetry by countryfog
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Written on 2011-01-02 at 17:43
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