Susie Paine - Selected Writings

Water crashing, falling

Tumbling over the rocky shelf

The water is brown, the deep brown of

Too much tree sap over too long a distance.

The sound is of the constant impacts of

Water against water.

Birds fly, their calls mixing with the water's crashing.

There is a bite to the air, slight, small.

The water has it too, more intense, noticeable.

Water fills my ears with joy,

I hear the sounds of a million faeries' songs.

The water rushes, almost oo cold to bear over my toes.

Turning them the beautiful amber of maple syrup.

The water flows around me; I break the current.

Water falls off of rock, splashing, creating little dips,

Small sounds that combine, build to fill my mind.

Birds fly, calling to each other, words milling with the water.

A song no one else can hear, I hoard these sounds,

Jealous of beauty that is mine, but not mine.

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Island, in the middle of the river

Water carves grooves in the sides.

Grass and trees grow, shades of green

Ferns at the bases of the trees,

Moss covering ground without grass.

Painful knots in the bark, pine sap oozing out.

The grass and trees spring up aorund me,

Filling the space with the beautiful green of summer.

Water parts around me, but also around trees,

And, for a moment, we are one, I am a tree, and I am not a tree.

River breaks around all of us, we are all subject to it.

The river doesn't care whether tree or person, the river goes on.

And I feel calm, unimportant, part of nature, all of nature.

A rock hits the back of my leg, water moves everything.

Water rushes by rocks, rushes by grass,

Sometimes caught in pools.

Water fills the land of waterfalls.