Sunday, February 05, 2006

Oarsman

Morning on the river dock
sweet song of river calls
the many names of God
from sky to sky
reflected in each passing hour.

I listen for the oarlock’s twist
each grip and draw
blades lift and drip
rinse trickled tip
and dip again.

Slow eddies drift
reflecting thoughts
now guided by
the oarsman of the boat
just around the bend.

6 comments:

  1. Chanhassen Ken2/05/2006 2:59 PM

    Nice mood, Ardi. Nice imagery. Creative description of the act of rowing! Thanks for sharing.

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  2. Chanhassen Ken2/05/2006 3:22 PM

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  3. Ardi, very nice! Good poem!

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  4. Evokes a sense of calm...I can almost hear the trickle from here.

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