Reflections and notes on the relationship of art to nature and of nature to art from along Warwoman Creek, in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Katuah Province of Turtle Island, where the light, the dark, the seasons, the time of deep past, deep present and deep future all mix in alchemal mists to reveal and hide and transform these slopes, shaded coves, bright rivers, deep forests and me, and together sustain me and my art.

Monday, June 3, 2013



of coming light
trace Pine along the far ridge
untethered above the mist.
Just a chimera

in and out of sight,
in and out of existence, as if playing
with the idea of being
and not being. River too

does this,
but in her own way
taking everything with her
but never leaving. We too,

in our own way, believing,
unbelieving, hoping
and refusing hope, singing
and crying. I have not

spoken of such things
in a long while now. Could not,
my mouth stuffed with rocks
and sand, so much
not understood. I could

have drowned, not knowing
how mountains and rivers move,
rise and fall in an instant
here and now, for all

in the quick arrow
of light loosed
upon this world. Everything

we could not know
changes, yet remains the same.

©Laurence Holden, 2013

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