Friday, December 12, 2008

Winter Light



I return to the forest when the city releases me. I find my breath in a light that doesn’t need.

There are no vultures circling above. Those are the shadows of clouds, nodding their remembrance of me.

We both wore different shapes back then. But I was the wispy one.

I pity the leopard frogs, buried by muck at the bottom of this pond. Hiding until their spring thaw. Blind to these smoky leaves, all drizzled with sun. Deaf to the wind, threading needles of pine.

A train unleashes a mournful charge while crossing Longview Run. My mind tracks the journey. All that coal skating easterly. Black cores squeezed by pressure and time.

Pressure.

Time.

Shoes thick with mud, I stretch my arms to the sky. And slip free.

14 comments:

Charles Gramlich said...

Feet in the mud, hands reaching for the sky. Just the way it should be.

jason evans said...

Wow. Great catch with those rays of light!

And wow even more for the thoughts expressed and potent writing.

This character's thoughts could easily be my own.

Sarah Hina said...

Charles, I agree. I liked the tension of that visual, and the hope it conjures. Thanks!

Jason, I'm glad this spoke to you. :)

And thanks about the photo! I liked those slivers of warmth cutting the chill.

Aine said...

Those are the shadows of clouds, nodding their remembrance of me.

Love that! Reminds me of my forest escape when I was growing up. I haven't been there for years. I think I need to find a new one... ;)

It's fascinating that humans find such freedom and healing in nature after toiling to surround ourselves with a man-made world.

the walking man said...

What a wonderful resonance you have created here. Just perfect.

Sarah Hina said...

Aine, that's a great point. We often don't know what's best for ourselves, in that drive to keep up with the herd.

I'm glad this reminded you of your old haunt. And I'm with you on finding a new one! :)

Walking Man, thank you so much. I'm glad some of the light touched you, too.

K.Lawson Gilbert said...

Sarah - I really enjoy all that you write, but this is my favorite so far. I was with you every step of the way.

Just wonderful prose.

"Deaf to the wind, threading needles of pine." -

Love it so much! Perfect, Sarah.

Sarah Hina said...

K, I'm so pleased to hear you say that!! Your opinion means so much to me.

That was my favorite line, too, btw. :)

I like trying my hand at these more poetic prose pieces every once in awhile. They're the perfect opportunity to explore solitude in nature. Thanks again, K!

David Cranmer said...

Sarah, this is remarkable. Nothing short of exquisite prose!

Vesper said...

There's a forest somewhere waiting for each of us...
Beautiful thoughts, Sarah, and the photo too...
:-)

Sarah Hina said...

David, I appreciate your saying so. I really enjoyed capturing this feeling.

Vesper, that is true about there being a forest for each of us. If only we had the time to linger awhile. Thank you, my friend! :)

gel said...

First time here (from Old Mossy Moon) link,

Gorgeous photo and equally captivating prose. Love your comparisons, visuals, and thoughts here. Top-notch awakening of my senses.

Catvibe said...

Sarah, this is such a beautiful tapestry you have woven. Your way with words is delicate as it seems you are. Isn't it amazing how the forest heals all that civilization steals?

Oh, dragons and rats make good friends. Let's link up.

Sarah Hina said...

Gel, so happy you swung by! :) I really appreciate that I was able to provoke a sensory reaction. Words really do come alive when that happens. Thank you!

Cat, definitely!!

And yes about the rehabilitation a forest can offer a broken spirit. Solitude is never so friendly as when wrapped in the arms of those trees and that wind.

Thanks, my friend. :) And I'm so glad we connected!