Springhead at Fontmell Magna

James Crowden

Music within the green and rounded hill,
A gift of the chalk,
Downland that bubbles to the surface
A small white symphony of clear water,
Pure and without distraction,
Each note, a silver messenger
Glistening in the sun light,
A miracle that you can dip your hand into.

And once you have tasted that music
You return again and again
To hear the echo running downstream,
Fleet of foot, its innocence engraved on your heart,
Beneath the roots of trees,
A sacred welling up, a hidden purpose
A place of pilgrimage and offering,
A prayer that is answered, and never runs dry.

From The River's Voice, Common Ground's anthology of poetry

Read more James Crowden poems:
"Apple Day", The Apple , "Downstream Effects - The River Stour"
Visit James' web-site