Thursday, June 20, 2013

Ephemeral

Sam Peralta is hosting dVerse FormForAll tonight. He has set us on the task of writing sedoka, a Japanese poetry form with two stanzas, each stanza having a 5-7-7 syllable count. Sam gives a good explanation of the other features of the form--y'all are invited to craft your own and link up! 


Ephemeral

The slow water of
Tumble Creek reflects white clouds
and the hungry green heron.

Nothing stays the same.
It may be no human eye
Has ever seen what I see.



48 comments:

  1. smiles...perhaps but you captured it nicely....its cool when you are out there in the middle of no where and see things and imagine you might be the only one that has seen it...well probably the exact same...as everything does change...

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks Brian, no one sees exactly the same thing, even if looking at the same time and place. My eyes give me my perspective, only. Kind of weird to think about.

      Delete
  2. A beautiful scene captured - lovely poem - K

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks K, I'm glad you liked it.

      Delete
  3. Oh, yes, the second stanza. And the first... Like a breath.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Like that water reflection and inner reflection of "Nothing is the same" This resonated with me ~

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks Grace--I think it's interesting that the images in the mind are not "real" in the way the objects outside of it are--like a reflection in water.

      Delete
  5. The fourth line keeps the movement of the water, clouds, and heron moving, just as you see it. Lovely.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks J.--everything, even what we think of as most stable, is always moving.

      Delete
  6. i like the way you start with the scene, the heron and the water and sky. and then turn it to you, the observer. that feeling of being alone watching nature, a part of it all

    ReplyDelete
  7. Sharp, clearly drawn, and the seen to the seer. A strong pen, nico ~ M

    ReplyDelete
  8. i love when things reflect in slow water...and let us see..and pause...

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks Claudia, a lot of life should be lived within that pause . . .

      Delete
  9. I love the way you insinuate Heraclitus' philosophical declaration into this poem - "No man can swim in the same river twice; for it is never the same river, and he is never the same man."

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks Sam--I thought about titling this something like, "No, Parmenides, You Were Wrong." Ha!

      Delete
  10. ...indeed, no two people can see same mona lisa in one portrait... both may glance a mona lisa but ask them to write or sketch same figure and both will give a different version of a same figure or subject... we cannot control the other side... we can only control ourselves... loved your sedoka... smiles..

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks Kelvin, there are as many different versions as there are different seers.

      Delete
  11. That second stanza about the uniqueness of now, and the green heron.. Love this poem.. reads with a unique timeless voice I think..

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks Bjorn, I'm happy you enjoyed it!

      Delete
  12. 'Tumble Creek' wasn't aptly named then :-)
    unless it followed Heraclitus' rule [as pointed out by Sam] to a very wide ranging degree.
    Trying to work out who the 'I' could be. [ play with the sound of I/eye?]

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks Aprille--Even a tumbling creek has some sections of slow water! As for the "I"--I'm forever trying to work out who that could be as well. Might as well be playing with sounds while I figure it out!

      Delete
  13. Ah yes, everything is so fresh, if we can only give ourselves the time to notice!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks Rowan--some thinkers see this perennial freshness as instability!

      Delete
  14. Cool. I wish the green herons that have nested over my driveway would find more water. They are flying now, but haven't left for good. I love them, it's just that I'm having to wash my car all the time. We have a ping pong table in the garage that just might need to find a new home, too. = )

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks Laurie--I love the green herons, but it sounds like yours need to find a nice quiet creek somewhere.

      Delete
  15. That's true nicono eyes ever seen it like you.. love this!

    ReplyDelete
  16. This is just lovely - and very true and has this great Japanese feel to it combined with a kind of free-ranging twang. Very nice. k.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. This comment has been removed by the author.

      Delete
    2. Thanks Karin, I enjoy reading and writing Japanese form poetry, I don't know why I don't do it more often. The twang comes natural!

      Delete
  17. I want to be there and see what you see. I love the blend of the heron (a Japanese feel) and the place you are that feels quite familiar to me.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks Victoria--you are always welcome to come along!

      Delete
  18. Oh, this really gets to me! Simple yet unforgettable language creating the whole scene and a wealth of emotion.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks Rosemary, for such a kind comment.

      Delete
  19. Parmenides packed brain boggling sedoka and I thought you were such a simple country lad:)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks Cress, there's nothing scarier than a college-educated redneck.

      Delete
  20. I saw a blue heron today at work..and I thought about a friend..your words ring true..nothing stays the same..

    ReplyDelete
  21. Perhaps, but thank you for relating this! Herons are ethereal and haunting birds; nice use of it in this sedoka. Great write!

    ReplyDelete
  22. very picturesque in just a few words, Nico!

    ReplyDelete
  23. My first time here - really like: "It may be no human eye

    Has ever seen what I see..." Good stuff, Nico - I'll be back.... All the Best to you Scott www.scotthastie.com

    ReplyDelete
  24. no human eye, but through your words many can see through your eyes.

    ReplyDelete