Solitude

In the solitude of the mooring,
I watch boats
tug their ropes,
feel the breath of the river,
hear it trickling,
peace pooling among the withered gold
of autumn grass and whispering thistles,
its only mantra the chink of metal,
splash and ripple.
A swan glides into view.

© Kim M. Russell, 2016

My response to Imaginary Garden with Real Toads Sunday Mini-Challenge: Still Points

Today’s mini-challenge is hosted by Brendan, who has brought us examples of how poetry can find what we most need, desire and savour, providing a rare bower of grace and wonder. When all is seemingly lost—and, strangely, especially, sometimes only then—a singing heart can find its grail.

That’s what T.S. Eliot sought in Four Quartets, composed in the darkest hours of the German bombardment of London during the Second World War. Amid the ash and debris of a falling world he found “the light is still / at the still point of the turning world.” Still points are what we need today, so that is the theme of this week’s mini-challenge and Brendan has given us several examples of poetry that fits the bill. So, for this challenge, we are finding our still place in our own  poems, new or something that has long resonated in us—whatever offers the most grace to our lily pond.

20 thoughts on “Solitude”

  1. I love this portrait of stillness which is composed of that which so little intrudes — those remaining slight motions and sounds — which tell us that we’re as close to stillness as we can get. The stillness leaps out from the almost-silence. Well done.

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  3. There is something about water that brings us closer to peace. I don’t think I would have made it through my turbulent young years without Lake Michigan, though now I have to make do with the dustbowl wind. A beautiful portrait of finding stillness.

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