SALTMARSHE DELPH

 

 

 

Saltmarshe Delph

Sometimes, deep in hidden corners

We discover whole new worlds.

Like here, where the horseshoe river-course

Bends its oozing flow from south to east,

And in its curving grasp the land is flat and wet.

This place exists in quiet insignificance

To all except the myriad of life

That thrives within its few small acres.

But what a life! Nestled here,

Between the railway

And the sprawling, golden fields,

Is a colony that makes its own sufficiency;

On the edge, and yet a world away,

From the cruder works of men

Who pass it, scarcely noticing,

(Except, perhaps, to wryly smile

At the family of swans that walks,

With proprietorial disdain,

Along the centre of the road),

And in quiet co-existence

Maintains a natural diversity

Whose model we could never recreate. 

And yet, by curious paradox, it was born

Where once men tore the earth with brutal might.

Then subtle nature softly healed the scars,

Creating, over time, her own cathedral

From arching willows, bent

To make a glorious vaulted roof,

And, for a floor, the shining mirror-levels

Where miraculous pond striders

Can walk upon the water.

Here blackbirds, dragonflies and warblers

Delight in curling ferns and wild geraniums,

Whilst grebes and cormorants find rest

And food amongst the bordering reeds.

With their very lives they praise

The deity that we have long denied,

For, today, our gods no longer live in trees

Or call us to the stillness of the glades,

But occupy, instead, the sterile spaces

Deep within the gloom of our own minds.

Here’s proof (if proof were needed)

That even the most restless spirit

Doesn’t always have to yearn

For wilder vistas on a grander scale,

But can sometimes be content

With nature in a gentler guise;

A modest Utopia, perhaps, but nonetheless,

Once we have the luck to find them,

It’s these small worlds that often form

The greatest landmarks of our lives.