The ancient is still
very much alive
along the edges.
Do not mistake
dormancy for death:
it has not survived
for millennia without
sedulousness of hope
that we would
recognize it again.
That hard trust is
what keeps forests
alive: the water nymph
assiduously sharpens
her fangs, waiting
for you, walking
too long with one
foot in the stream;
the witches construct
crude huts every
hundred and one steps
to rest close
to your tent
each night.
This rhythm of diligence
keeps waters roaring,
earthquakes as markers
of what lurks,
always, in any shadow,
waiting for its worship.
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Shelagh Rowan-Legg is a writer and filmmaker. Her work has been published in The Windsor Review, The Ampersand Review, numerous anthologies, and her short films have screened at festivals around the world. |