In Osp #poetry #earthweal

Osp Village

The village almost abuts the cliff-face
karst limestone carved out by the river:
millennial winds have swept over its contours
which centuries of rain have washed with tears.

Ruin

There’s a way into the cave, but it’s not for hikers
only climbers can access this eyrie
approaching the cliff face see
an abandoned building:
here nature has reclaimed the land

and I blunder clumsily, intruder in this sacred space.
There are to climbers calls to etch the air with echoes,
not today
the birds seemed to have been whispering secrets
which, as I interrupted, flew away.

When did we unlearn the art 
of being part of nature?
Was it in those first cities
along the banks of the Tigris
in Mesopotamia?

For sure we understood the rise and fall of river tides
and tried to tame them then.
Now, it seems, we wilfully misunderstand 
the rise of earthwide tides
the sea’s encroaching
nature reclaiming all that is her own.

We valued our independence above all things
made ourselves apart where once we’d been a part.
Now hear the raging song the angry earth sings:
the crackling of wildfire and the roar
of untamed winds.

© Experimentsinfiction 2021, All Rights Reserved

Written for earthweal

Please consider this a draft. My response to Brendan’s Interdependence Day challenge. My thoughts are more rambling than I would have liked them, but with so much going on in my life right now, it can be hard to see the wood from the trees.

This poem was inspired by a visit to the Osp Valley in Southern Slovenia yesterday.

I will be away from WordPress most of the week as I make the finishing touches to The Anthropocene Hymnal. I’m hoping to announce a publication date at the weekend!

Here are some more images to compensate for my stumbling words:

climbing wall, Osp
hollow in cliff face

31 thoughts on “In Osp #poetry #earthweal

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  1. An invitation to mystery and old celebration here — what a place — I’ve read about the Old European culture of the Vinca to the east of of you, pre-Indo European (ca 6500 BCE), a whirlpool on the Danube considered sacred and around which dozens of platforms where the shamanic mysteries of the Goddess were celebrated — the river carries the soul to eternity — sanctuary such places deep in your poems, the old unities are not lost! And good luck getting the Hymnal off to press. Much work for which you are thanked — by eternity, at least … Brendan

  2. Beautiful words, and thank you for the photos. What a fascinating and beautiful place!
    Good luck with your work this week–and congratulations on your work on the Hymnal. It seems like you’ve done that very quickly.

    1. Thank you Merril! I am struggling with file conversions at the moment as this is something completely new to me, but I’ll get there 😅

  3. Ingrid, this post stirred great emotion in me. You are talented in so many areas – your ability to speak for and allow nature to speak through you is exquisite. Thank you. 💗

  4. Loving the last stanza of this electrifying piece in collaboration with your stunning images! Nature is at its raw and lovely finest in your words.

  5. wow, so many rich metaphors and history here Ingrid.
    All of your lines are amazing as well as your pictures.

    this one really struck me…
    ‘made ourselves apart where once we’d been a part.”
    nice work💖

  6. It looks like one of those between places,
    Good luck with the book. I appreciate all your hard work, and I know it will be worth it. (K)

  7. You nailed it with your poem, Ingrid. That cliff-face looks very much like the one that totally collapsed along Lake Superior in Canada the other day. Some kayakers happened to be near and filmed it. Sigh. I so resonate with your poem, especially the closing stanza. Thank you for your work on the Anthroposcene Anthology………..leaving a road map of our way through these troubling times.

  8. climbing a cliff with the book, and this face in Osp… all attempts are better than none, don’t you think? ~

  9. There is something powerful and fulfilling to be at one in the world of nature. Our problem is when it intrudes in our lives. Such a fine line. Lovely photos

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