by Steve Tanham
I used to row whenever I could. I found the action joyful and loved the intake of extra oxygen surging around my bloodstream.
The feeling of propelling yourself across calm water is a meditative experience filled with sensory delights: the ‘chump’ of the oars breaking the water’s surface tension; the accelerating prow’s quiet roar as it fights the clinging liquid, parting it like a comb on oiled hair.
And then, when the effort’s done, and quieter waters reached, the dripping of water from oars as the vessel glides the final few feet back to shore or jetty.
All real but in my mind, like a poem, remembered.
It’s been too long since I held the wood.
Perhaps a haiku is appropriate?
—-
Old wood, wise, defines
Ancient blade’s intent
Part but not to cut
—-
©Stephen Tanham 2023
Stephen Tanham is a Director of the Silent Eye, a journey through the forest of personality to the dawn of Being.
http://www.thesilenteye.co.uk and http://www.suningemini.blog
Sun in Gemini 
Pingback: Beautifully put, Steve… | Jaye Marie and Anita Dawes
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I have never rowed a boat, but I can feel how much I have missed…
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Thank you, Jaye. Everyone should have a go! Give it a try if you get chance. It’s a deeply sensory experience and seems to connect us with an ancient past…
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If I get the chance, J will, Steve. I bet it’s fun, too…
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It is!
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Perfect!
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❤️
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A lovely haiku and write up
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Thank you, Robbie ❤️
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I think your poem captures the spirit.
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Thank you, Audrey 😀
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