Oxbow Blue
A Pause For Beauty
One ought every day at least to hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture,
and if it were possible, to speak a few reasonable words.
- Goethe
. . .
River Shadows, The Beauty Of Wild Things
When he first arrived at Fort Good Hope, he noticed that an old man would sit on the riverbank for hours most summer days. He appeared to be doing nothing. Eventually the young priest asked him why he sat there. “Hejon Wida” the elder replied, or “Here I sit,” meaning, in effect, that “This is the right place and I'm the right person to be here. I have now blended all my good days and bad ones... I have become the person I was called to be.”
- From my interview of Rene Fumoleau.
Poem On Poster:
River Shadows, The
Beauty Of Wild Things
- Roderick MacIver
The ancient Taoist masters
Lived quiet lives in nature
Hermits, humble, unassuming
Meeting them
You encounter silence
And not know.
River shadows
Long river shadows
Disappear into night
Owl hoots over water
A fish jumps
Circles disappear
Into the ripples
Into whirlpools
Day disappears into night.
Something calls me
The river, the night
And I don’t remember who
I am, or supposed to be.
I search
In the process
Of becoming.
The owl calls
In the darkness.
Something of the river, in me
Something of the stars
Something of cohesion,
Something of chaos,
Something of wisdom
In my soul and in the universal flow
It searches for me
I search for it.
The beauty of wild things, wild places
Is in me.
I search for it.
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