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The River Spirit

You can't catch a fish
with your back to the river,
so we face our challenges
and obstacles head on.

it is at this moment where
a kindred spirit is born,
a spirit between mankind
and the Chinook salmon.

All existence gather here,
beginning our Journey
in the river of life.

The Journey is not easy
and is full of snags and boulders.
Sometimes the way is so treacherous,
fear overwhelms our navigation.

We, like the Chinook salmon,
rely upon our spirit,
a spirit always pushing, always driving,
achieving our pursuits and
never giving up.

When we arrive at our
Final destination, 
We shudder in our last breath
But there is life in death.

Some say we give all
in our passing,
but a spirit is carried with us
and is only shared,
and is continuous in its giving.

Where we began, we will end.
We will not stop giving,
and the River Spirit will
always be giving, too.


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Introducing a New Writer -- Tristan

Tristan is the pen name of a young writer from the Oregon Coast.  A fisherman and a poet, he writes from the perspective of a new deeply involved wordsmith, in expressing himself through the written word, and enriching his soul.  He wants to share his journey with you, and to share his creativity and his words with you.

In Tristan's life, there have been crises, struggles, and challenges.  His courage and his character to deal with life's obstacles is reflected in his writing.

"I want my work to flow like a wild river, carving its own path.  The river is sometimes inhibited by dams that suspend the natural flow of something. I want people to feel something, feel uncomfortable, feel sad, hurt, broken, happy, but just feel."

Tristan's poems have been published in "The Echo" newsletter and Honoring Our Rivers (2018), an anthology of writing by inmates of the Eastern Oregon Correctional Institution, in Pendleton, Oregon.

The Raven and the Sailor

The cottonwood and the hemlock trees
mingle in the lower pastures
Standing high by riverside
eyeing the flood of love's disasters.

To where I follow a raven's fate
who scouts in pallid skies
for mate designed for only he
if knowest tears he'd cry.

Toward western skies in askance flies
the raven with dirge on his heart
His sorry I borrow like it's
my tomorrow
A burden of grief in cart.

The river a path that has
come to a crash
with vastness so large evokes
With nothing to follow his
heart has been swallowed
How will he spot a lost
love's quivers?

When darkness falls his longing
still calls and body implores him rest
But sleep won't come
Until he's undone
Bound to an eternal quest.

Just before the dawn awakes
I set for bountied seas
The raven perched upon the stern
of my ocean faring steed.

Beyond the port between the jetties
across the bar we flee
New mates akin by broken hearts
He with I and I with he.

Briskly arriving a smile on the day
pouncing to…