The Poetry and Language of Water

NCSSM Miniterm 2014Participants: Charleigh Smith, Noah Gavenus, Amy Townsend, Brenna Loendorf, Anna Mangum, Amanda Hsiao, Madeline PauleyInstructor: Liz Peeples

Madeline Pauley

Amy Townsend

Amanda Hsiao

Charleigh Smith and Noah Gavenus

Brenna Loendorf

Ms. Peeples

Anna Mangum

In the cool, damp rocks laid a pair of eyes.I saw them as I hiked and they took me by surprise.Silently approaching sans the sound of my feetTwo feet away as I saw the eyes retreat.Stepped in the water and ducked my head downFilled with awe when I saw who I had found.A small water spirit sat cowering in the dark.Her pale blue face reflected what was in her heart,Timid like the rain and as gentle as a brook.That’s why I was so shocked when she landed her right-hook.No pain induced, but I still shed a tearTo think the water spirit didn’t want me here.Took a few steps back to give the nymph some room.I asked her what was wrong and her face filled with gloom.She said, “Look at my river, all sick- it makes me mad!”I said, “I’m just a hiker, I didn’t do anything bad.”She said, “You didn’t stop them, you never even tried!Thanks to you, I’m alone—all my friends have died.”Heartbroken at the scene, I had made up my resolve“I’ll dedicate my life to cleaning up your falls.”The spirit, quite suspicious, peered into my soul.Sealed with a promise, my life now had a goalTo purge that river till it was as pure as holy water.A large task for two, but you know what’d make it faster?If you could lend your hand, play your part, and pay your due,We could make this river healthy, clear and shiny as new.But, we have to act fast, there’s panic in her eyes-The last water spirit’s dying, this comes as no surprise.

Last Water Spirit by Anna Mangum

High Falls by Charleigh Smith

Everywhereby Brenna Loendorf

Water runsWater flows

Water water water goesUp the riverAs fish swim

Down the streamWater’s everywhereIt invades my dream

Cold as iceOr hot as fireWater’s niceI ain’t no liar

Water here and water thereWater water everywhere

Up Close by B

renna Loendorf

River Rocksby Charleigh Smith

People are like stonesBorn from the Earth

And sculpted by pressureAs it travels through life

It changes

Until it reaches the heavenly climax of its lifeThe river

It is then caught in a torrent of wavesTossed about

And eventually settling on the bottomAs the water continues to flow over

The stone becomes smooth

The imperfections are smoothed awayDay after day

Month after monthYear after year

Until all abrasions have vanished like the timePerfection

Rushing River by Amy Townsend

Two’s a Pair by Anna Mangum

Until I Named Itby Anna Mangum

The creek behind the old house on Cedar StreetUntil I named it, it didn’t mean much to me

A stranger creek, I didn’t know it one bitA stranger creek it was, until I named it

The creek is narrow and encamped with treesI named it Slim Shady, laugh if you please

Every bend, twist, and drop memorized by heartAsk me anything about Slim, I know every part

It’s crazy to think, until I named it, it didn’t mean much to meBut then I named it, and now it means everything

Pulchra Iride by Madeline Pauley

Red Sweaterby Brenna Loendorf

Once I was on a hiking trip with six other students and my teacher. As we crested a hill, a beautiful waterfall came into view. The roaring waters fell in three separate spots, picking up speed every second. As we leaned against the safety railing we saw a man in a red sweater walk out onto a rock that was adjacent to the falls. As we watched, he got closer and closer to the slippery rocks. He bent to snap a picture and to our horror he slipped. It was almost slow motion the way he kicked back, wildly trying to regain his balance. His camera fell, smashing into a million pieces, and then he followed. As soon as I saw him slip I took off. We had been watching from up on a hill, and as I flew down it, I could feel the tear of brambles on my skin and hear my classmates calling after me to stop. I got down near the river and frantically searched the water. I saw a flash of red and dove in. The second I hit the water I knew I had made a mistake. The cold water tore the air from my lungs as I was pulled under. I tried to fight the current, struggling toward the bobbing red shape. I knew time was running out, as I could hear another fall just ahead. I finally reached the man but realized that I would not be able to swim and hold him. The rush of water was turning into a roar as we were pulled along, closer and closer to the falls. I had resigned myself to my fate and as I was beginning to plunge to my death I blinked and I was back at the lookout point. My classmates had already started on the trail, and as I ran after them I watched the man in the red sweater check his picture and walk away.Rapids by Noah Gavenus

Swagby Anna Mangum

Turn up for what? Turn up. Swag.Turn up for what? Water. Swag.

Sittin’ by the water with a camera and my bag.Sittin’ on some rocks and I’m feeling pretty rad.

Turn up for what? Turn up. Swag.Turn up for what? Water. Swag.

Got dat mist in my face and some river in my shoes.Chillin’ in the mountains, all I’m missin’ is my booze.

Turn up for what? Turn up. Swag.Turn up for what? Water. Swag.

Sunlight on the Rocks by Noah Gavenus

Questionsby Brenna Loendorf

I know now it takes many years to write a river, a twist of water asking a question

But what is it asking?Does it ask:

Where have all my fish gone?Or

Why is my water so brown?Does the river wonder how we can take so many pictures of her

beautyBut make boats out of the film canisters?

Does the river want to know why we use her precious water to farmBut leave behind food wrappers that could cause her harm?

What is the river’s questionAnd can we answer it before it is too late?

Can we protect what nature took so long to writeOr will the questions become obsolete?

#NoFilter by: Noah Gavenus

Waterfall

by Noah Gavenus

Waterfall

Flowing

Gushing

Rushing

Strong

Trickling

Meandering

Calm

And serene

As big as life, then

Small

Just that.

All for a Glimpse by Amy Townsend

Blub by Anna Mangum

Creek loveby Amanda Hsiao

In the golden light of the warm June morning sun, I go down, down, down, to the creek. That age old creek, carved out of past

lives and erosion, that age old creek that I love. When the sun rays hit the water, they illuminate the water, reflecting the blinding hues of yellow, pink, and white of dawn. I step as close as I can get to

the water, coming to the creek’s edge, where I can look at the waves, those cool, wet mirrors, ebbing ever so with the current. In the morning, the waves are subtle, the currents weak, and the creek is tranquil. I kneel on the stones to wash my face, and watch my

image shatter. The rings scatter as I splash water around, disrupting the perfect peace. Concentric circles have never moved me as they do now. I sit up as the sun climbs and I inhale as the wind blows, pushing the scent of dewy grass and lilies into my

nose. Eyes wide open, I glance out on the clear creek water and gaze onto the slow moving water. My hands twitch and my mind yearns for a camera. Because at this moment I feel as though this plane of existence is too perfect for reality—and nobody told me

that epiphanies would be borne from still waters and fine mist and the sound of waves lapping at shorelines—and I am stuck. Left wondering if the cataracts of the Nile and the depths of the Dead

Sea hold as much insight for me as this does, right now. The quiet of the creek moves me, and I find solemnity in silence. All

1,013,913 words in the English language seem inadequate to describe how perfect this still frame of life is. And think. That I

am content.And I am content.

Escape by Amy Townsend

riverwish

by Amanda HsiaoThe river is entrancing,The water mesmerizing.The currents are dancingAnd the tide is rising. The water is restrained,Moving as it must,Removed from changing ways,Deprived of wanderlust. It is rushed, then tranquil,Contained but wild,Calm and then deafening,Violent and mild. The riverbank keeps,And water is kept.It took a storm to set it free,‘Til nothing else was left.

The river is a home;It houses tides and waves,Yet their wills or wants aren’t grantedThe currents remain slaves. Subject to the wind,Dependent on the slopesRivers push the water one way;Waters don’t have hopes. I wouldn’t want to be a river;Not the deprived waters that make a lovely view.Because the river’s nature is too familiar,The water reminds me of you

Watch Out by Brenna Loendorf

Learn to be afraid

by Amanda Hsiao

Someone once reminded me that everyone who terrifies me is 60% waterAnd that everyone I love is made up of sky and stardust,And that I simply have to learn to not be afraidOf the rivers and oceans and creeks that are the people around me.“Water cannot hurt you, darling.”But I wonder,Have you ever seen a waterfall crash like a drunk driver, against the flat of the stone?Have you ever swam a rocky river, trying to stay dry, failing to keep your head up?Have you ever seen the raw power of water, in erosion, or rain, or ocean waves pulling you under?And realized that nothing is more terrifying than teardrops produced by someone you love?In my defense, water is a force to be reckoned with.Nature’s bath is not always pleasant as a shallow lake, nor as tranquil as a quiet creek.My mother was a tributary, and my father was a seaMy brothers both were riversThey all were terrifying in their own way, as the tributary reproached me scornfully,and the sea, says in its lovely voice “Excuse me, I have work to do” and left me so.Everyone who terrifies me is 60% waterAnd everyone I love is sky and stardust,And water is something I will never learn to be unafraid of,I am not that foolish..

Into the Looking Glass by Brenna Loendorf

Still versus Movingby Charleigh Smith

A drop in the ocean

A pebble in the water

From perfect, reflective stillnessThe slightest disturbance can completely change

the entire pool

By simply dipping a toe into the most vast expanse of water

We are able to make a difference

Just follow the stream and you’ll seeIt goes from still or slow-moving

To rapid, foaming

Tumbling over the side of a rock

Into the abyssTo become a waterfall

Churning over rocks and rapids

And eventually settling into stillness

Once moreThe Elements by Anna Mangum

Reflectionby Charleigh Smith

Standing beside a waterfallCauses much self-reflection

It’s as if you are a tiny speckAn insignificant tiny speck

In a vast world of nature

You can try and convince yourself otherwise

But look at the nature God created!Compare it to your own little life

Look over the edge into the water

And watch your image shatter

An Upward View by Anna Mangum

The River’s Bedby Amy TownsendShe sleeps – the river.The quiet stones are her soft cushion.A stillness slips over her shoulders,A hush that hugs her hips,The Earth’s embrace.The rain kisses her face,Keeping her calmSo that she remains undisturbed.It does not last for long.The violent dreams that stirWithin her grow strong.She tosses and turns under the sheets.Awake – her eyes are angry.With the fury of a ferocious beastShe unleashes her wrath with deafening roars,And then crashing down on all fours,She loses her fiery spiritAnd is tired once more,Letting nature lull her backTo the serenity of before.

It’s quiet under here by Madeline Pauley

Waterby Noah Gavenus

Water,It brings life into the world,And can take it away Just the same.It can soothe and calmThen destroy and ravage An entire population The power water holds Is greater than any king’sBut, I have no fear of drowning in waterI intend to drink it all

Chillin’ on a Rock by Charleigh Smith

Earthy Elements by Amanda Hsiao

Secretsby Amy Townsend

Soft and sweetFlows the stream by my feet,Gentle and apologeticAs it stumbles into me,Tickling my toes,Whispering secrets untold,How nature unfolds.But if it appears innocent and pure, beware.Oh, the stories the water will share!It holds more knowledge than you know.

Remembrance by Madeline Pauley

Forced Creativity by Ms. Peeples

A gentle nudge,forceful shove

A sudden careless dropfrom above

Smashed againstthe rocky shore

You pick yourself upoff the seafloor

And let the winds tell youwhere to go

Forced to leavewhat you know

Time and timeagain

Controlby Amy Townsend

Reflections by Brenna Loendorf

Music in the fallsby Madeline Pauley

Plink Plink PlinkThe drive of the water pumps out the steady rhythm of the universe.Plunk Plunk PlunkRising, falling, building, breaking.Controlling my hand, the noise and the music write down their own stories. Like a chorus of holy horns the falling water plummets and is slammed under to merge with the songs of all the other drops.The fall is a loud ensemble of each droplet’s contribution to the world and it sounds its tribute to God and all those blessed to hear.The sun bears her light to drape the singers in a thin shineDulce Dulce Dulce… shining of off the surface to the underbelly of the thick forestry surrounding the fall.Canticum copulare possum?Can I join in the song?

Reverie by Madeline Pauley

She’s like a big sleeping giant that everyone takes advantage of andsteps all over till she wakes up and makes everyone remember. We like to take pictures of her and commercialize what ain’t rightly ours. We try to own her and capture her, but, oh Lord, when she wakes up we all better know something. Oh honey, she can get you in the air or on the ground, or anywhere your pretty self tries to hide. I wanna be more like water. She is so fearless and at the same time got the patience of Job. Can’t control her, can’t tell her anything to do, and she don’t ever stop being water. She don’t shift. She don’t sway. She is what she is. Ain’t nobody gonna tell her what she can and can’t do. I’m glad she’s asleep most of the time for our sake, but I do love seein’ her all riled up. She’s really everything I wanna be. Daring and Confident. Not afraid to go tear stuff up and set things straight. She is the end-all be-all, The ultimate supplier and consumer of life. I wanna be like water when I grow up.

I want to be like water when I grow upby Madeline Pauley

You know I wonder what water thinks. I wonder if she got a spirit. I think water is a girl, ‘cause who else could be so powerful and stir up so much trouble? Could be so cocky and confident and beautiful? That water is a badass and I wanna be like her when I grow up.

The Chase by Amy Townsend

When I saw the waterfallI wept.I saw in that cascade everything wrong with me and wrong with the world, my loneliness,my sins, and every single moment in my life I’d not given all of me. I wept for the life that I’m living and yet don’t understand, my ignorance.I wept for life and death, and then life and death again. I don’t understand our purpose or our creation. When I try to think about it, I reach an edge, a boundary and get thrown back in to my own confined consciousness. What is it to understand? I perceive I have not really understood anything, not a single object, and that no man ever can.That water tumbling and crashing over the slick rock is nothing that I can ever comprehend because it knows more about the world andGod and life and me than I could ever hope to. I don’t understand a lot of things, butjust sitting by this waterfall helps. I know that knowledge will never really come to me,It’s the way of the world to keep itself hidden, butI think today I unlocked some secrets,some code that I don’t have the key for.I don’t get it,Never will,But something today made me feel just a little less small in the world.

Water understands.by Madeline Pauley

Smashing by Anna Mangum

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