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We had a lovely night. Good celebrations, all round.  Tonight we leave our cabin to travel north, were husbandpants and I will spend two childless nights at in Inn in Glacier Park, to ski and snowshoe and make out whenever we feel like it, because we’re leaving the kiddos here with their grandparents.  So, in the interests of vacation, I’m trying a morning poem. My brain wakes up, creatively speaking, around 9 pm, when I sort the inspirations of the day, but here I am.
I told my Dad that I was going for a walk in the snow in search of a poem, and he said, “I think there’s one down where the creeks come together”.  By golly, he was right.
The confluence, we call it, or, it’s childhood nickname: The Secret Door.  This is  because before the creekbed moved over, you accessed the spot through a clearing in the brush that looked like, well, a secret door.  In the summer we go to dunk. In the winter we go to listen.

Birth Waters II 

In the long cold, snowshoes are required to enter the secret door. Tree hearts grant welcome access to the confluence.

The genderless waters come in two streams and touch in great meeting.  Their origins are the lakes atop separate mountains, and the lake’s birth waters come from the sky.

It comes together, and then down.

Gladly received by the underchorus, that pulls invisible strings otherwise belonging to the body, . Everything buried rises, slipping under the frozen banksides.

A cinematic sun cast calls “Look. Look!”.  But where? For what? Listening everywhere, with still ears, but my sight fixes on the two globby orbs of ice, fixed and flashing up from the waters. The meeting feels mutual.

The gaze brings certain knowledge, that on that coming Someday, preferably with blurring eyesight and knobby hands, I will walk across the uncertain ice bridge at the creek joint, and be willingly carried down.

The water of bearing whispers, “We’re waiting. Someday you’ll come home to rest.”
I hope you have your own Secret Door, poemies. If you do, where is it? I dearly want to know. These vacation posts will be bare bones…no fancy pictures or links or movies. Just the words.  Hope you like them anyway 🙂 Happy Saturday! What are you making? love, Anna