Wednesday, February 01, 2017
"This Swift Stream"––poem by Dorothy
This Swift Stream
Now that I am caught
in this swift stream,
ever rushing closer
to its unseeable end,
I am not sure what to wish for.
Should I convey
to that other that ever hovers
near
a list of accomplishments
to be completed,
an array of gifts
to receive
before those last
final moments?
Should I catalogue
all those things I
meant to do
(Egyptian temples,
the Ganges and the Himalayas,
one more visit
to Tara and the holy wells
of Ireland where
the sacred energies
pour from earth,
a final rendering
of Mozart and Bach
to my pulsating heart,
more Rumi, yes, again
and again,
even another walk
on Bobolink Trail
with its stream
whispering secrets,
its radiant trees and grasses)––
ah, there is so much
not yet achieved,
but time ever shrinks,
and things not done
will remain undone.
Always,
gifts have come.
Presents from an
unseen source.
Surely, more
are waiting.
And I too,
now the final waiter.
Dorothy Walters
February 1, 2017
