My energy was down and I needed the wonderful replenishment we can find in nature. So I went on a solo camping trip to the nearby New River, which is one of the most ancient rivers on earth (the oldest river in North America). It was the night of a super moon. I awoke at 4am to see the full moon hiding behind some light clouds, and went back inside my camper van for some meditation.

I love observing the coming new morning, and when the light outside changed just a bit, I saw a clear sky with the moon setting downriver and the sun starting to rise upriver. I knew I had to get on the water, so threw on some clothes and got in the canoe my hosts had kindly made available.

I did follow the moon downstream, and saw many creatures along the way. It seemed like a turning point…a thin space. So later that day I wrote this poem.

NEW RIVER POEM
I followed the moon
Though she led me downstream
Knowing return to the sun
Would take ten times my strength

Knowing her wounded face
With craters so deep
Led me to coolness
Silver-laced tears

The island before me
Gave me two paths
I stayed with the moon
Down shallows so fast

Heron said don’t worry
Just let go, just relax
If the path is too much
Watch my wings take flight

No wings did I have
Mind said best to subside
A sigh turned from the moon
Back towards lighter sky

My journey slowed
Shore barely moved by
At times I seemed still
A tide too high?

The geese looked me over
Why are you alone?
There’s safety in numbers
Leave the weak exposed

But I journeyed on
Deeper waters calming flow
I look toward the sun
Would warmth make me whole?

New strength, new purpose
I flew past the dock
I was in wingless flight now
Just to be found

A mist lay ahead
Would not last for long
The time was too short
The sun would dissolve

I entered the mist
Yet it was so thin
Seemed so heavy from without
Barely there within

I looked back
She was gone
I was lost
Nothing found

Bass broke the surface
Just to give me the eye
Said turn around now
Time to go home

Hear the drone far away
Which will soon overcome
So many horses bound
In search of my capture

Now you must flee
The noise makes you ill
The quiet morning is gone
River no longer still

So I turned back around
Floated downstream
Still as the muskrat
I looked like debris

My teacher, Ken Cohen, translates Chinese poetry and sometimes reads verses to us at workshops. At times, he shares his own words. This is my humble effort. The photo and the first four lines of the poem now hang on a canvas print in my healing room. It reminds me of a core principle of Daoism and Qigong: Observing nature. It’s a special connection. That’s where we replenish our qi…and find peace.

—Ray