I walk the water path
then climb the concrete stairs
to stroll past statues and monuments,
where apple trees once grew,
the sturdy plantation house stands on the bluff,
but it’s the river that calls
the battle-dead whisper
unseen, but fitful, sighing,
the flying hawk shadows me
while geese bask
at high-tide
the waves crash
and they fly
circling the water,
the river,
home.
Delaware River, Red Bank Battlefield
For dVerse, Amaya has asked us to include a secret ingredient. I’m not sure if this works for the prompt, but this is what the muse gave me in between dreams last night, so I’m going with it.
Thanks for painting a wonderful picture of your walk. 🙂
Thank you, Frank!
“the battle dead whisper”,the hawk following you, the rising tide and so on gives a feeling of really being there.
Thank you!
The Oracle was definitely whispering to you—that opening is 100% fridge magnets 🙂 It has a dreamlike quality, especially the hawk shadowing you while the geese back. It’s all so silent until the waves crash…
Thank you. That’s a good point about the silence until the waves crash. I really noticed the waves that day–ocean like instead of river calm. I guess it is dreamy, which fits too. 🙂
The sound in dreams is often strange. Often not there at all.
But sometimes there is lots of talking in mine. 🙂
There isn’t much in mine, more interior monologues or just ‘knowing’ what’s going on. Husband’s dreams are almost all talking, completely surreal like most dream conversations.
I think there is a lot of just knowing in mine, too, but sometimes there’s conversation, too. I had a dream just before I woke up this morning, and I was chatting away with friends, and I had a young son, and I was talking to him, too. 🙂
I’d say that means you are a person who sets a lot of store by family and friends. Even to the extent of making them up!
🙂
My husband never remembers his dreams. 🙂
Mine doesn’t usually, but when he does it’s a three act play.
It sounds like we’d get along. I think I’ve probably had some operas. 😉
We both love opera 🙂
Yes, now I remember that. I’m not that familiar with opera. I probably should have said operatic. 🙂
I think I can imagine 🙂
So peaceful, and then that reminder of the battle-dead – it’s funny how scarred places can be so peaceful sometimes.
Yes, thank you, that’s a good reminder. It’s a park set on the river, but there’s the historic house and it was the site of a Revolutionary War battle. I like to walk there when it’s not very crowded. 🙂
Wonderful Merril, thanks for taking us along the river path!
Your remembered dreams morph into poetry. I don’t even remember mine. Ha!
I like how you blended the visual and the aural, Merril. Thank you!
Thank you very much, Marian. I’m glad you liked the blend of visual and aural.
This was more of a poem I thought of in-between dreams, rather than a dream , though you know I have written about some strange ones. 🙂 My husband doesn’t remember his either!
Well…..there’s certainly secrets that the wind carries….and the geese and the hawk could tell many a story as well. Perhaps what they’ve seen, what they harbor, are the secret ingredients?
Loved the imagery here.
Thank you, Lillian–you are right. I was originally thinking of the river itself, but then the ghosts. . .
This is really beautiful, Merril.
Thank you so much, Jill!
So lovely. Dreams are such a good source of inspiration. Felt as if I was walking there beside you – calming.
Thank you so much! I wasn’t actually dreaming this poem, more of thinking about it in between dreams.
Oh, I do that…
It’s definitely a writer’s thing. . .composing lines in the shower, while on walks. . . 🙂
It is easy to walk by your side
That’s lovely. Thank you, Derrick. I can say the same of you.
🙂
Statues and monuments may celebrate/commemorate, but it is the river that was witness.
Thank you, Ken–you are so right!
Lovely river walk, Merril. The ghosts of these historic places can whisper.
They can indeed. Thank you, Dale.
¨But it´s the river that calls¨ … I don´t know why but that one line resonates for me. Maybe because I grew up near a river, one that was ever present as it meandered or meanders through farm country. It took lives — a cousin and two of his friends in a canoeing accident — so the idea of ït´s the river that calls is so eerily evocative for me. Aside from my musings, a lovely poem.
Thank you, Marie, but I’m sorry this brought back painful memories. I can definitely understand that type of calling. I imagine that some people around here never even think of us being so close to a river (the Delaware), while others do take out boats and kayaks. I remember hearing sirens and helicopters one night when a girl (I think) drowned there.
Painful memories but good ones too. I like rivers … a lot … but sometimes they can be dangerous. I like to think I have a healthy respect for rivers.
Healthy respect sounds about right.
I feel that your walk took your thoughts both backward in time and south on the wings of geese… isn’t it amazing how we can fly wherever we want while hardly moving?
Thank you, Björn. That is lovely!
I like the contrast between the sturdiness of the house on the hill and the ever-flowing water that is more like a home. For the geese yes, but for the dreamer, most definitely.
Thank you for your lovely observations!
When this house was built, they were more in tune with nature and the river– they had shad fisheries, too, as well as orchards and other crops. Although, of course, they were also trying “to tame” the wilderness.
We walk with you and marvel at these creatures. This speaks of serenity and peace.
Thank you very much, Grace.
do the geese stay year round? Is it in fact ‘home’…?
I think they do.
All those birds are circling their homes. I like river walks.
Thank you, Frank.
I’m fortunate to have that park so nearby.
That was engaging and haunting Merril. History lays heavy on this walk… I liked this…!
Thank you, Rob!
There was a Revolutionary War battle fought there. I imagine the ghosts walking there.