Nature's Crashing Relief
by Annie Jenkin.

Winter ash and beech trees stand tall
with elegant and majestic contours,
tilt their bare branch tips skyward
searching for elusive sunlight.

My pace quickens, slipping, sliding
and squelching down the muddy lane.
I hear its powerful thunderous roars,
long before reaching the river's edge.

I watch the heaving confused swells,
pounding down its narrow course
as peat-stained water flashes up
rebounding off huge smooth boulders,
and crash relentlessly against steep banks.

Its rush rises and excites the air
then it finds me, its rhythm searching
loosening weariness, lifting sadness.
It presses my reset button, I’m ready now
to start again and to tackle anything.



 

Return to: