A Voice from the Hills Beyond

A Voice from the Hills Beyond

Carter Davis Johnson

I sat by calm waters and watched the reeds
bend under the weight of white-moth wings,
and the red sun fall fast in the red west,
and the bluegills dance and the cicadas sing.

Behold, a voice across the water,
Gather your stones and cords, it said,
and touch the eyes of those you dearly love,
and pour rich oil on her golden head.

A storm lies in the night’s beleaguered womb;
the wind has bent the arms of knotty oaks;
it gallops toward the valley’s stillness
to rend the reeds with callous iron strokes.

Your little pond will loudly seethe and growl,
and gusts will chase its solace on the stones;
the lurch will cause the barn to reel and fall,
and shake the house to test its every bone.

But watch the mountain irises, scathed
by rain, a sleek consoling purple sheen.
Inhale the water-torched perfume
and kiss the wind that rolls unseen.

Then all was quiet on the shore;
I searched the mountains for the voice,
but only saw the rustling leaves,
and stood to brace the coming choice.

---

Carter Davis Johnson
Writer & Scholar 

Carter is a Ph.D. canidate at the University of Kentucky. In addition to his scholarly work, he is also a creative writer who has been published in The Society of Classical Poets, Road Not Taken, Flyover Country, and SteinbeckNow.

Photography by Iam Hogir