We are like salmon, swimming back upstream:
leaping against waterfalls that thwart,
cut and bruised; but strong; our only dream
return to source; no thought save source of thought;
and in that fight, our iron age turns to bronze,
and we to heroes, in a war of soul,
as nature seeks the nature it had once;
though wholly lost, remembering the whole.
We silver salmon, sparkling as the sun
shines on our fierce and loving enterprise:
to rear our children where the world is one;
the source remembered, nature's greatest prize.
The golden age is ageless in its gleam
and we, like salmon, swimming back upstream.
i was gonna do a poem on a similar theme, but looks like you beat me to it! i tip my hat to you, sir! TEN. Jake
Beautiful Michael...man's tireless journey back to self. kenneth
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
An amazing trip undertaken only by the very strong; Strong of soul and language. GS.