Silent on Chauncey Creek
a peacefulness so complete
the voice of each bird,
nameless to me now,
is as lucid as my own inner song
perhaps the respective beauties are incomparable
comparison resides in peacefulness,
and, thus, unnecessary.
I remember writing this one while visiting my brother in Portsmouth, NH. Seems even back when I was 25, about half what I am now, I was seeking and finding stillness. Sometimes, looking back on my work exposes the person I was trying to be all along and I understand more and more the Odyssey and Joseph Campbell.
(C) 1995, Stephen Fuller
Chauncey Creek by Anne Scheer