I lay down until
I was mostly lichen,
a bare branch,
the bark decayed.
I lay still longer
and I became dirt,
a mushroom digging
its roots through me.
I was bound,
unmoving
until I was
raining
pouring into
the ocean
and I became
undertow.
Drowned in the
taste of
salt,
no color or smell
until the tides changed
and I rode up
on a white horse
and I saw
golden sun
blue waves
and the green
of the shore.
Ah if I knew
this was my fate
I would not have been
afraid to die.
I was inspired by Mary Oliver’s poems- many of her poems- especially ‘Sleeping in the Forest‘. My poem is only a small telling in the face of her gorgeous writing, but I thought it was worth mentioning the inspiration.
liked this poem as well (similar to Ice dragon). again liked ‘undertow’ as its own stanza (similar effect as ‘to divide me’ in ‘ice dragon’) and the dynamic shift in the poem then from death to life – although both death and life appeal here in their soulful elementalness. yes a bit like Mary Oliver in that respect. i’ve enjoyed reading her ‘dreamwork’ poetry collection recently. the mushroom in this poem reminded me of a conversation with you some while back which i think was about using a similar mushroom image to this as a way of grounding in meditation, if i remember rightly.
Thank you, Arwen. I am glad you see the shift happening here- a death and then new life happening yet there is life within death … I do find mushrooms a great ‘Earth’ connector- they seem so OF the forest, their bizarre yet earthy essence and how they grow straight out of the dirt- and are soft.