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Threshold Crossing Birthday

February 16, 2021

Threshold Crossing Birthday

By Amba Gale

This birthday morning, deep in the Quinault rain forest world,

I read a poem by poet Marie Scott, which opened a door to a moment,

“a moment inscribed on my heart.”

By Amba Gale, Poetic Contributions by Don Gale

Dark green vines wet

and deep with color lie

with ease on gnarled maple bark

while below, the river gaily dances its way

to the lake, singing all the while: Fall’s Creek.

This is my birthday hike.

Out of breath,

pausing often,

step after uphill step,

carefully skirting protruding roots and limbs

trying desperately to trip us up

letting me know that that huge, fat trunk tree is here

and here

and here!

When the trail diverges,

one way to our car,

the other to the waterfall,

we choose the destination.

The river ever closer, ever louder in its voice, comes near.

We hear the rush of it,

the thrill of it.

With cascades below us,

we think we’ve reached our stopping place.

And suddenly, out from the woods

step two angels, donning masks to keep us safe.

We cover our own faces,

And they, smiling with their eyes,

tell us we are almost – and not quite – there,

to the waterfall,

where the river cascades

down step-ladder terraces.

“It’s a bit of a scramble, but well worth it,” they say.

Unsure footed as I am, I hesitate.

I know the destination calls to me

and ask my husband for a hand

to grant me his support

across the mud, across the slide,

across the mossy rocks, and uphill climb.

Always here, to grant me his support.

We find the steps to make our way.

On the bridge, we breathe in sound

and marvel at the life and beauty of the place,

the tumbling rocks

a step ladder for the rushing river

to find its way,

making music all the while,

musing in its own style,

delighting in its journey to the sea.

Musing, myself, here,

the next day – my birthday morn –

this “moment inscribed on my heart:”

The passing of two guides, angelic strangers,

smiles in their eyes,

inviting me to go the distance,

weather any danger that comes my way,

getting help where needed,

and meet my destination in all its splendor,

keeping my vows, tuning to the Power of the Vision,

unfolding the future into what it’s meant to be.

And, most of all,

allowing

the difficulty of the journey

to be part

of the gift

of the arrival.

Additional Poetry

October 12, 2021

Ignition

“Pick up your pen and write,” she says,  that wise and ancient Voice: the devoted Muse, speaking to me in the grey morning, white  ball of sun  in the sky, in the water, below. Below, where the surface conversation has long since disappeared, I ask a private question: “Of what shall I write?” “Anything you hear in the deep well of your own heart.” “Write about the loon mourning the days away. Write about the turtle who belongs   in the pond among the lilies. Write about a world of wonders. Write about me, who will always encourage    you to find…

September 27, 2021

Patience

Hello, Great Blue! You, who walk so stealthily, so faithfully, so gracefully, so quietly, on your long, lanky, legs, looking, waiting for your first, tasty morsel from the sea, yellowing sea. Good morning, Great Blue, Long Necked Warrior of the Morning birds, you, who work so attentively alertly, keen for your morning fish. looking outwards toward the rising, brightening, sun. Do you watch for the sun to rise? Are you single pointedly moving towards the exact place where the fish meet your beak? This is the way I want to awaken each day, saying hello to the wild world before…

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