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The Rugged Blue

A poem by E.D. Downs

I slowly make the journey home
Towards the rugged blue,
To drink the air of waterfalls,
And dress in mountain dew.
And there where nature has been worn,
I will be born anew.

I’ll visit Old Mount Solitary,
Flanked by his forest of thoughts,
And by the ridge before his throne,
I’ll play his game of draughts.
Jamison, with his stairs of gold,
Exalts the victor to the heights.

Out by the ford, where at night,
The stars come out to play,
I’ll watch the shallow come alive,
Far deeper than the day,
A six-foot track into the earth
For those who cross its way.

And there out by Echo Point,
I’ll mourn those sisters three,
Maidens fair, turned to stone,
Gunnedoo, Wimlah, and Meehni,
Their words are all but echoes,
Yet their story speaks to me.

I slowly make the journey home
Towards the rugged blue,
To drink the air of waterfalls,
And dress in mountain dew.
And there where nature has been worn,
I will be born anew.

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