I will always be here, a stone of the world,
but you will move on
as the wind moves on
as the seasons move on
as the stars and the night move on
and disperse into various
clouds and ideas and desires
and you will move on
as everyone does
as every child
moves from womb into world into death
and death into matter into fetus
and passion into boredom into despair
and into new embraces of arms between legs around waists
and you will sit for a while
and you will move
on but I
will always be here, a stone of the world.
Powerful. This reminds me of my walks in the Wissahickon. For years I’ve been going there to drop words and tears, and then somehow flowed into a new being which was only noticeable in my next visit. I’ll feel myself change, and would be grateful for the trees that remained the same all throughout. I also love this poem for creating both perspectives of change. From fetus to world to death, that can feel quite heavy and daunting to accept. But, from passion to boredom to despair into a new embrace, can highlight hope. There are the two sides of change, two ways of viewing it, and this is a great reminder of that.
Wow. Thank you for sharing such a powerful and personal reflection, Braylynn. I was struck by how you describe the silent transformations you would make upon your visits to the woods, how they’d only become apparent whenever you returned to the trees and bushes. It sounds like your tears marked the “death” of a version of you while signaling the birth of someone new. A cycle process, as I understand it. The poem certainly speaks to this. You mention feeling “grateful for the trees that remained the same all throughout”, positioning nature as a sort of grounding base where you can judge your own transformations. I find that idea very beautiful. I will add, which is something the poem focuses on to a great extent, is that there’s something about YOU, despite the innumerable transformations, that remains throughout. This “You” is the “eye” that discerns the personal changes that are measured against the stable image of the woods. I find this idea of a deeper unchanging self quite interesting. I suppose it speaks to the idea of “the soul.” What do you think?
And I you’re right in your closing observations. Change can be considered in many different lights. The lines you highlighted speak to this intended message. Great eye.
Thank you for sharing.