particles
pounding
through
the neck
of Time
shaping
this wall
of white thunder ...
dreams
shape
me
I find them in a pool
gather them up in my hand
they are worn like marbles ...
Source: Baltensperger, Peter, and Baltensperger, Brenda (eds.) Voices from the Niagara, St. Catharines, Moonstone Press, c.1987.
Sun Shining Through the Mist at the Horseshoe Falls by Andrew Porteus
Niagara Falls. It’s like watching eternity take form. It’s like a talk between two hearts. Flowing away forever and ever. It’s like seeing yesterday becoming today. And today, tomorrow. Only forward. Forward only. It’s like seeing the word ‘never’ take its shape: Shapelessness. Never does it rest. Never will. It’s like saying— ‘nothing’ is the absence of ‘everything’; Yet both co-existing. It’s like a beautiful dream. But also a beautiful reality.
I
NIAGARA, how charms thy name
Resounding from thy high walled sheer!
How sweet thy water's far acclaim
That bursts upon my pricking ear!
How beams my eye with kindling flame
As to thy presence I draw near,
Where beautied grandure's falling swell
Weaves still time's awful, mystic spell!
I gaze at thee from nearest shore,
Close by the impending brink,
In wonder at thy fearful pour
Of waters, til, amazèd more
Than I can tell or think,
I only see thy mist's fine shower
That wafts upon these walls,
And vision dim that mighty Power,
The Great Spirit of the Falls.
II
But lo ! up stream, in fitful dream,
The rolling, rumbling rapids roar,
And toss and tilt and turn and teem,
And gurgle in their cascades' gleam
From isle to isle and isle to shore;
And oft repeat the dazzling feat,
Display their leaping wonders more,
Rush round the rocks with flaring locks,
Lead as bellweathers do their flocks,
While through their tree-trimmed way they pour,
These bounding waters, fleet, more fleet,
To gather in one onward rush
Adown their troubled, rocky bed,
And struggle, straggle, gurgle, gush,
To follow where their leaders led;
But panting now for breath,
They stagger to the edge
Of overhanging ledge,
Fearing the plunge beneath;
When forth in foam their fellows come,
Cheering and jeering the faltering and fearing,
Till onto the precipice they rush with a roar,
Exulting and leaping, as comrades before;
Yet staring, stumbling, crashing, crumbling,
As host with host o'erpowering,
Each glistening wight of air commingled,
They fall in gulf devouring;
Or, flaring, flashing, darting, dashing,
To break as gleaming snow,
While splitting, splashing, gnawing, gnashing
Upon the rocks below;
Whence o'er the heights their spirits towering,
Sweeping, swaying, rising, lowering,
Rejoin the ceaseless flow,
That with recurring, falling shock,
Born on the wind's bluff blast,
Wears e'er amain the shelving rock,
And undermines aghast.
There as by mighty hand,
A cavern forms, carved by the storms
Of vexed spray's pelting wave;
And in that rocky cave
Rough columns stand with altar grand;
While fittingly conforms
The spray-worn dome and bowlder pave,
Round which reëcho e'er a stave
Of wailing wind's weird band;
And there before the cavern door,
Attended with intoning roar,
E'er falls the Bridal Veil
And sweeps the filmy rail,
Which now through Bridal Hall are fanned,
Now screen that Wind's Cave from the land.
Continue reading "Niagara by Arthur William Fisher"→
The left hand pocket of my old blue denim jeans
Hold coins from three nations
Cents dimes and pennies
Laughter hides the sheer glimpse
Of a trail echoed in geography of Kent
Even plain fields belie the modern journey
Syndicated music follows in our wake
Announcing our arrival in neon lit cascades
Lived in motels stale facades heavy with its own faded thirst
A living promise of being the first
The left hand pocket of my old blue denim jeans
Hold coins from three nations
Cents dimes and pennies
Late arrivals barred from splendid thoughts
Neon men let you walk to the late night store
Full of unsleepable teens
Packaged dreams enclosed in plastic wraps
Music louder beyond the hands of an older leather jacket
Sleep will bring the dawn
Then wake and follow the throngs on the same worn lawn
Glorious morning filled with youth watching
In awe and disbelief nature in splendour charging
Smooth aged mist nurturing rocks
Dressed each day in bright new frocks
Freedom to roam without locks
Nature dressed as always in new clothes
Even in your veil your beauty shows
The left hand pocket of my old blue denim jeans
Hold coins from three nations
Cents dimes and pennies