The Return

Although here in my Seattle home, I am only 200 miles away from my Oregon, the fact that health has prevented me from returning for a number of years, and makes it impossible for me to ever again trek the breathtaking wilderness of that region, that lives so vividly in my memories — it feels that it might as well be on the other side of the country, in a beautiful, unreachable dreamscape. This envisioning I’ve written here of my return is presented from that perspective. It is likely also sparked, in no small way, by a subconscious wish that I could return to the robust health I enjoyed most of the 25 years I lived and explored in Oregon, discovering and falling in love with its precious beauty.


”It is not down in any map; true places never are.” — Herman Melville

 

Across the chasm of time
and great distance
memories unfold
vividly rich
like elaborate origami sculptures
as the paper of this odd map
unfolds bewilderingly before me

even ‘cross this flat
boring land spread
I see in my mind’s eye
soaring ramparts
of sky-piercing mountains
forested tier upon tier
with enormous sitka spruce

scattered brewers
known as the weeping spruce
the most beautiful of the conifer
whose branches in summer
display sunlight
as a jeweler’s velvet
showcases gems

the whispers
of wind-stirred
lawson cypress
towering ponderosa pine
and douglas fir
waft down emerald climbs

tangerine-scented white fir
a fragrance rivaled only
by the rough-tufted red cedar

the dogwood’s brilliant leaves
big-leaf maples
pendulous western maples
tight ranks of dark-green sadler oak

the golden shimmer
and crisp crackle
of white-barked aspen

these live and breath
boldly in my heart
calling me forward

this morning’s sun comes crisp and bright
enfolding my waking in warmth
and vivid presence
the world fresh and fascinating

I embark toward noonday
the joy of homecoming palpable
senses saturated and alive
blissfully consumed
by a deep satisfaction
that permeates this afternoon

my soul is full
my mind is clear
my heart — overflowing

as dusk descends upon this place
painting its heady grace and expectation
my pace is smooth and steady
the downing sun — a gentle gold embrace

early shadows fall soft across my face
as vesper’s velvet blanket
drapes its comfort ’round my shoulders
splendid calm envelops me

yet there are other shadows
strange distractions
that disrupt my moments
they come unannounced
almost imperceptible

but I follow close
without fear
the way blazened in my mind
and there is still far to go

I am eager to journey
drawn by the beauty
that is the rising moon in sunset

facing into the evening breeze
I venture onward

rolling amber and coral
spreads across the horizon

again the shadows shift
dull confusion finds me
I lose my pace and focus

but I do not heed
this temporary distraction
nor the suggestions of this creased parchment
unfurled before me

for it is not what will lead me home
I do not let it sway or stray me
for my heart knows the way

yet
nagging concern
disquiets me
a stab of panic
pierces my solace
have I been gone too long
will it feel the same

unwelcome bewilderment
grips me
holds me
uncomfortable in my skin

a cloud of frustration
sweeps over me
obscuring briefly
my purpose and destination

then the fog wafts
and again I envision
across the veiled valley
of time
my hearth and home

twilight is coming
much too quickly
and my concern
at first a nuisance — mounts

a gathering feeling
gnaws inside
fear I will not make it home
before this sunset

I am afraid
to lose this evening light
that leads my way

but my way
is not on this map
not on any map
it lives in my heart
and in my soul

this calms the disturbance
of my reverie
quiets my mind
brings my fear to settle
as the ease of remembered beauty
and warmth of home
swell my soul

ahead are the mountains
and forests of my Oregon home
where I finally return
to reclaim my heart
this day

now I have
such sweet recall
pulling me forward
urgently

even in the faded light
of many distant memories
these visions have held me breathless
soon I will gaze upon them again

I redouble my pace

*
rob kistner © 2022
revision of draft © 2011

Poetry at: The Sunday Muse

Poetry at: Earthweal

 


Little jazz tune from Sanborn entitled “Comin’ Home”… plus a little Keith magic!


https://youtu.be/k84QxVJd0tIp


48 thoughts on “The Return”

  1. your imagery is so vibrant and alive it enables me to envision every needle on every tree touching the sky…tree after tree blended together in deep fertile green and blue/green…but your poem says so much more beyond the spruce and mountains and enormity of wealth and richness of natural beauty…the visions we have of finding something we cherished so dearly from our past, standing tall, scented memories always with us…a beautiful poem indeed…made my day…

  2. Oh, this reminds me of a poem I wrote once about autumn – the way you’ve described everything here just completely took me back to the images I was trying to portray then. I think you did the better job.

    Lovely.

  3. Such a beautiful tree-filled poem. I too am away from the home of my heart. I relate to this poem of longing……..Oregon is so beautiful – much like my beloved West Coast – Tofino.

  4. A part of the country I have longed to visit – you make me want it even more. I could see it all through your eyes as I read this.

  5. “Drawn by the beauty”…and you have shared the beauty so well in this poem. Beautiful. Oregon is spectacularly beautiful. I travelled its coastline a couple of times – breathtaking.

    1. Thank you Helen. This is a meld of two older, some what darker drafts, as well as brand new sections. I wanted to bring it to a positive place of homecoming. Trying to elevate my emotional state for 2022.

  6. Rob, I love the descriptions of the trees, it is clear you know them so well from having walked among them for so many years. I know you moved and don’t have the same access to them as before but they are there, with you. I appreciate how you traveled the path, re-centering yourself again and again. Such a powerful life metaphor. Thank you for the inspiration for 2022.

  7. A wonderful brush with Nature and its varieties. Not nearly all for sure but enough to keep us busy trying to remember what all we’ve read of. I do think the writer poet forgot to eat, missed a meal or two.
    ..

  8. How beautiful. Your wonderful poem took me to my own places of memory and landscapes I lived and breathed deeply so many years ago. Thank you. It is good to remember these things for they are part of our soul.

  9. You have mapped out the journey and the imagery is exquisite. If you were reading this and I closed my eyes I could easily join as a dream traveler. Unlocking the beauty of nature and all it has to offer. Your heart sings the songs of the land.

    1. I am definitely at my best in nature, my most grounded in nature. The fact that my health has blocked my venture into wilderness nature in the recent years contributes to the continued downturn in my health — it’s a catch 22, and I do not know how to stop the spiral down. It is hard to deal with for me. My only escape into wilderness now is memories. There are many, and I am grateful beyond measure for them — but they are not the same. I have a reasonable idea of what a wild animal must go through when put in a zoo.

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