Angele Toomey Poetry

The origin story of this poem goes back a few years, I was trying to write for a poetry magazine. The theme for the issue was ‘forests’ and I thought about the most ancient forest I had been to (Mosman Gorge, Far North Queensland) and the most forest (near Franz Joesph Glacier, South Island of New Zealand).

The poem ended up not being about forests at all. But, aren’t rivers marvellous!

Reflections on rivers
The First River:
The river runs wild
Crystal clear water
turning over
granite boulders
Rainforest cloak the mountains
of an ancient land
I am not able to tell 
you the origin story
because, like innocence,
it is now long gone.

The Second River:
In winter it is clear and bright
where blue water leaves
its glacial home
to descend over 
hidden pounamu
while the forest stands back.
I am not able to tell
you the origin story
because, like found treasure,
it is not mine to share.

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