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Rupununi Reverie

Tuesday, January 27, 2009


People of the Rupununi
dwell in heat unimaginable
never sweating, never gasping
like this pallid northerner
suddenly sauna'ed.


She stands in the morning
gazing downriver
Her baby tiny, quiet on her arm.

The river is cool and clean.

Nearby, a basket
woven on the spot
of what was at hand
of leaves still living

We each have things we can do
At which the other wonders.
Mine, tied up in gadgets
that do my will
But need an outlet.


Hers, having to do with grace
and knowing what is enough.


11 comments:

BOTB was wrong. This is your best post ever.

Or should I say, so far.

gasp...
Lovely in so many ways.

So much respect here. Lovely, Julie.

And are we ever grateful that we are the repository of that outlet. Your reverence for that single captured moment is simply spectacular and moving.

A lovely post, profound and moving, filled with your grace.

Beautiful, serene and so deeply reverent.

That's one intricate basket, and to think it is woven from native plants, even more amazing. It's a lost art to be able to craft things out of one's hands, for necessity, not an artistic flourish. Funny how life mimics art: that basket is the perfect example.

That was breathtaking, Julie...

Beautiful, peaceful, and as timeless as the river.

I second TR's comment, and am thankful you have outlets, for your talents and otherwise.

Banging on the roof, eh? I trust there'd be less of that when it's a Freestyle and you're navigating a nature preserve in Beantown! Enjoyed the post--and your response to mine about Kim Richey. Didn't know she was from your hometown!

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