Beyond the sound of the storm

When the noise of the storm has died down, we are often left with an eerie silence.

An emptiness that allows us to gather our meanings and turn them over in our hands. To see what is left of value.

My friend Tracy Ingham, an emerging poet, recently wrote this beautiful piece on the shores of Loch Long in Scotland (though the picture is from our valley).

This may be a poem to pause with and within it to hear your own voice.

ON THE SHORES OF LOCH LONG

You take the high road,
I’ll take the low road…

Winding its way down
To the shores of Loch Long
Where the waves roll 
In 
and over me.

Here I allow myself to stop
And breathe
Observe the ebb and flow
Depositing the fragments 
of the years.
Detritus 
and treasures.

Here in silence
I walk the shores;
            Acknowledge the debris
The fragile strata
Adrift and crumbling
The pain of breaking
Letting go.
            Recognise the gems
The precious stones
Emerging from the battering
Smooth and strong
Seen again.

Here in seclusion
I hold the tangled mess;
            Accept 
the weather-beaten knot
Of frayed rope
Unanchored
Cast upon the shore.
            Cease 
striving to find
or understand
The beginning and the end
But simply sit
With the threads I hold
And weave into this fragile cord
The pain and joy
Until
I create something 
new
and beautiful.

+ Tracy Ingham, ‚ÄėFinally shall come the poet‚Ķ‚Äô 1st August 2023

Thank you, Tracy.

Pause. See differently. Re-story 🌿