Impermanence
Paddle paused, the kayak continues
drifting upstream, the mild current
offering little resistance. The wake
continues towards shore, calmer
in its own wake, until rippled
reflections become serene,
the kayak still, and the waves
only a memory.
This is my response to Poetics: Impermanence —
the prompt from Merril at dVerse Poets Pub.
Image: Moreau River, Missouri, June 2018
(click image for larger view in new tab)
rivrvlogr 
Oh. . .this made me feel so peaceful, Ken! Thank you. It sounds like a special moment–and memory.
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Thank you, Merril. It can feel like intrusion becoming acceptance.
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I drifted from your descriptions of paddling a kayak to the idea of thoughts rippling outward like waves, rising and falling until the mind becomes serene again. A beautiful poem. Thank you.
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Yes, becoming one with nature, if that’s possible. Thank you.
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Beautifully written; I enjoyed the alliteration and the phrase “drifting upstream.”
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Thank you. Unless the water is high, it can be such a mild current that it does become a juxtaposition of drifting upstream, effortlessly. Just thinking about that makes me smile. Having that experience, it just seems so natural to say. Thank you for reminding me how special it is.
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I also enjoyed this moment on the water. However, I have some confusion about the words “rippled
reflections becomes serene” specifically, my predicate spider sense is tingling here. Wonder whether you mean us to read that the one wake becomes serene or the plural reflections become serene. Go figure I still can’t make it fit right. Thankfully the ripples catch me happy to see the water, hear the end of winter.
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Think about it, Daniel.
Sitting on the water, the face of each ripple is a plane with its own reflection, all of those blending into one serene reflection as calm descends.
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And, thank you for your thoughts.
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And “becomes” becomes “become” when I get back to my PC.
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Typo fixed
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I am we. The primeval difference between one and all. What an outstanding moment on the water. Metaphor. Sun, wind, stream, shore – earth, water, fire, air. Caught and reflected in the ripple of a poem.
Dip the paddle again, friend. Often.
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Will do sir, knowing you will watch my back.
(You may notice I just edited “cak” to “back.” These fingers are getting too old.)
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A moment without dialogue, serene to the bone. I do hear cello music though as I read it aloud.
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Cello music… I like that thought. Thank you, Glenn.
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There is something to be said for small movements. Beautiful poem.
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Thank you, Lisa.
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You’re welcome.
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Even when it is quiet the river keeps running. Nothing stays the same.
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Just being able to share in the experience is enough.
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N ow that is a truth!
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This is beautifully written. Like the ripples, we become only a blip in the passage of time.
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So true, but we can take satisfaction in being a part of it. Thank you.
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I love this. It took me back to younger days and described how it felt to me to be out on the water in a reflective mood.
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Thank you, Claudia. It seems so easy when there.
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Wish I were there … minding the ripples rather than trying to get my head around all that’s buzzing in the world around me … the ripples seem more real.
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And we know these ripples will eventually succumb.
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This is very serene…..just lovely.
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🙂 Thank you.
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analogy between a calm shore, a still kayak, and memory is creatively done.
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🙂 Thank you.
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Beautiful, Ken. A pristine moment captured in simplicity!
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A pristine moment. Yes! 🙂 Thank you, Steve.
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That was such a peaceful river trip, Ken! It’s what I love about living on the Norfolk Broads.
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Thank you, Kim. 🙂
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Love the quiet of this poem, and stunning photo (yours?)!
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Thank you, and yes. I try for at least one reflection photo when I’m on the water. Often it’s midstream, and I need to be still for five minutes if I want perfectly calm water. Meanwhile, the current, mild as it is, has other ideas on where I should be. Often, the trick is to rest my paddle, get a quick focus and shoot as I drift forward, with my wake still beside or behind me. It’s a hard life, I know.
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Sounds like a perfect life! And I love it when a poem and a photograph perfectly mirror each other. Thanks for this little green, Ken!
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Don’t you love autocorrect! That was supposed to be thanks for this little “gem”!🙄
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I like your description of the impermanence of even those waves.
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Thank you, Frank.
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when summer comes I will take out the kayak again.
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The weather & temperatures here, in mid-Missouri, are up and down all winter, so I usually can find a day at or above 50ºF. That way I manage to get on the water at least once a month. If the smaller streams still are frozen, I have a couple of good-sized rivers within 10 miles of home.
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That is a beautiful river that would calm any soul! Well done. Perhaps we should be more like water in our emotional being…. quick to calm down and go back to normal!
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Thank you, Dwight. Yes, indeed.
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Now that is beautiful!
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Thank you. 🙂
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You are welcome.
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What a peaceful poem. Positively lovely.
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Thank you, Linda.
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Sounds calming. I can see that in the photo too. Nicely done Ken.
Pat
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Thank you, Pat. I put off loading the kayak on my car, trying to avoid that effort, but every time I’m on the water I wonder what I was waiting for. It’s always worth it. I try to get out at least once a month, and March may be super early — 63º forecast for Sunday.
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Sounds like it will be a good day for it. Enjoy.
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Sounds calming. I can see that in the photo too. Nicely done Ken.
Pat
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The use of “wake” as in the movement created by the boat is clever and (without mentioning it) you conjure up the picture of a funeral wake. Its a beautiful poem.
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Thank you, Kevin. Yes, the ebbing of those waves.
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Beautifully peaceful!
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Thank you, Kim.
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Beautifully peaceful!
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