Paddles skim on liquid glass,
Sky checks her reflection;
Rocky shores with wooden doors
Display her pure complexion.
Hands of Time, I snap you here,
To break your counting power,
Cram a lifetime’s thirsty soul
Into this sacred hour.
-
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Meanwhile, Melody Muses... 
Beautiful! We all need to experience that sacred hour…
Indeed – feast to the soul. We need strength for the journey, for the journey is long and often full of peril. (Can you tell I am reading ‘Lord of the Rings’?) 🙂
Now I can 🙂
Sacred indeed. You took me there.
I was trying to memorize the peace and beauty and somehow stop time – and yet, the moments passed, and here I am home again. Time wins, as always. And yet, I am taken back when I see the images – and if you can come to, there is consolation in that! 🙂
Time wins. That got me thinking. I know it’s true in the linear sense but if I can be where I want to be physically or through imagining (like transporting myself back to yesterday when the pelican flew toward me) then that moment is my friend.
True. The power of imagination and remembrance is perhaps what wins after all… I like that.
gorgeous prose and photo!
Thanks Cindy!
A sacred hour would be wonderful but I live for sacramental moments!
I think that is wise. Moments snatched and treasured feed the soul indeed. (‘Hour’ rhymed better in this case!) 😉
I thought of a quotation from Einstein when I read this, though I can’t quote it exactly the gist of it was that if we would look into nature we would learn more about God. I agree and that is how your lovely poem speaks to me.
Wonderful! I see Him everywhere I look! Thanks you, Marie.
Gosh Melody, this is all kinds of wonderful! Thank you for sharing with us,
Awesome! Thanks, Debbie!
Your poems always make me wonder what your thinking. By chance were you in a canoe when you took this picture?
I sure was! My daughter and husband and I got a chance to get away camping to the mountains – soul food, I call it. 🙂
Gorgeous photo. Who wouldn’t want to stay put in such a place? Unless there were mosquitoes. Were there mosquitoes?
Maybe 12. So they don’t count. It was the quintessential perfect moment – one to draw strength form in the days ahead.
Yay! So even the mosquitoes knew that this was an important moment to be left alone.
They weren’t too bad out there. At home? Now THAT’S a story to tell that would make you itch just thinking about it!! 😦
😦