Friday, 17 April 2009

Walking in Glencanisp by Colin Will

Snowblind from the apple blossom’s garden glare
I turn, as I have so often, to wilder walks.

This strata’s as ancient as the world itself,
and the carpet’s starred with tormentil and violet.

Past the belt of planted Sitka spruce
the sky is mixed and busy, sun and shade.

Given choices, I’ll sometimes be a follower, on paths,
and sometimes take a lead through trackless ground.

The route ascends heathery heughs and drops down dips
where tiny streams drain gurgling slopes.

In the palm of the landscape’s hand, waters flow together
to top up a fortunate lochan, reflecting blue.

Birds sing, whether or not a person hears,
and the scents that I enjoy were made for others.

Placing foot before foot, the rhythm of walking
looses the mind to play, imagine, freewheel.

This is no journey with a definite end,
but a simple way of being in the now.

Colin Will, Scotland, UK


Crafty Green Poet said...

Colin Will, formerly a scientific librarian, has had four poetry collections published, the latest being Sushi & Chips (Diehard Publishers, 2006). He chairs the board of StAnza: Scotland's International Poetry Festival, and he is webmaster for Poetry Scotland. He is also a publisher, under the name Calder Wood Press. In 2008 he was appointed Poet Partner to Elgin. He lives in Dunbar, near the Scottish border. He has travelled widely within Europe, and he has also visited the USA, Japan, China and Tibet. His poetry is a poetry of place, and his themes reflect a love of people and the natural world, often in language derived from his scientific background.

Jinksy said...

How I enjoyed finding (and reading) this poem. Beutiful images with soul, and not simply a jumble of words that read like a many I've come across in Blogland seem to be!

Crafty Green Poet said...

well hopefully jinksy the same can be said for the other poems on this blog!

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