My husband loves to build cairns on the banks of the Little Santiam River. It’s fun to help him fetch just the right rocks and watch him VERY patiently build these phenomenal structures. It still boggles me that they stand. He is not done until they are stable enough to dance around.
To make this precarious cairn
Be patient with steady concern
The waters around it will churn
With a whirl and a twirl and a turn.
The waves will swirl on the grass and the fern
while the dragonflies dance with the cedar-bound tern.
The sun feels divine, too much more and I’ll burn.
It’s a balancing act, I am starting to learn.
2 thoughts on “Churn Baby Churn”
Your husband’s rock formations are beautiful, as are your word formations (poem).
May I post this poem on my collaborative blog? Check it out and let me know:
The blog itself is on a bit of a break, but I hope to rejuvenate it with some new posts in late spring/summer.
What cannot be done? What one thinks cannot be done, another is doing it. Amazing.