A collection of poetry by Matthew Foster

Leis out to the World

A collection of poetry by Matthew Foster

Time present and time past

Time present and time past Are both perhaps present in time future And time future contained in time past If all time is eternally present All time is unredeemable What might have been is an abstraction Remaining a perpetual possibility Only in a world of speculation What might have been and what has been Point to one end, which is always present Footfalls echo in the memory Down the passage which we did not take Towards the door we never opened Into the rose-garden

Solitude

Finished meditating in complete solitude Woke up, and felt like I had been on a high ridge— with some altitude. Seven thousand feet above the creek. Beyond the white pine roots, which bind the rocks to gether Comes walking a boy with a wooden stick. Green meadow watered by past memories, slowly dropping down on the both of us. The boy asks himself, innocently, “why can’t I live with the trees?” I heard his thoughts wander through the cold and winding path. I laughed and thought to myself, “When I am back, I will still be hiking on the same path”

Daisy Miller

Along the city streets the moon shines on a flower In a clear sky it illuminates the truth Great sympathy for such a pearl Buried in the sand What is this culture? Photo from September 2018

Two Branches

I can see branches growing, but moving further and further away. Originally connected like the four-armed body—the divine mirroring each other’s eyes. Undivided, thriving in a vibrant landscape where they walked by rivers through deep green grass, And then split. Cracking until they continually grow further and further away, hoping to flourish Together like they once did. Spring-water in the aquamarine creek is clear. Moon light on Ko’olau mountain range is white. Silent answers—the soul is enlightened of itself. Contemplate the void and separation: This way of life is detrimental for the soul and exceeds stillness all at once.

Why I meditate

Looking at a busy street People moving towards the end Awkwardly passing by each other A big tree begins to creak. I’m walking back to Trinity campus While I slowly am pondering the endless possibilities That could have happen Back in Hunt Hall I rushed over to my yoga mat and meditated The drop of water leaves the leaf Falling from the tree—pattering the lake softly, con necting with a greater whole

Sentience

Sitting alone by the flaming fire, Classical jazz swirling my way, Here, inside this cave, it’s soft. Mind is bright, woke up the lion. Through the silver gate in a dream. I return to the bamboo forest daily. Where are the things that troubled me? Wind blowing softly Rattling the leaves Looking inward at all that is around Connection pleases the soul

The Fire Pit

The smell of smoke drifts in the air like a memory of our last meal together. I’ll sit by this fire, watching over it… poking the coals with my stick, in anticipation of your Return.

Blue Mountain

My home was at Blue Mountain from the start, gliding along the waters, far from trouble Going! Sparkling like a million fireflies at night Whispering closely in my ear through the galaxies in my mind Flowing out an endless stream of light for all creation A fountain of stillness, pointing at the road—not a sin gle leaf spotted, yet it appears before me: Now I know the pearl exists Know it’s use: boundless sphere spinning perfectly Lines moving to no end

Heaven’s Gate

A bright light, Or the slow-moving snow on the trees falling closer and closer where people fly. In hours, minutes, or seconds, buzzing of moments is all we have Held tightly by those who choose wisely Humanity is like an explosion without end All we have is each other.

Adrift

I can’t listen to the patterns of falling water anymore. But, I used to. I can only hear the water rising The cherry flower blooms when there is light. The willow is covered in snow and forgotten, for the better. Morning sun will rise each and every day. Bright clouds will watch over. Who knows where the canoe is heading? Giving lei’s out to the world. Editor’s Note

Matt Foster was a writer, musician, student of the natural world, and a beloved friend. Growing up in Hawaii, Matt came to UVM as a sophomore transfer student in the fall of 2018. In late July 2021, he drowned while visiting family and friends in his home state. Matt is remembered by us as a wellspring of joy, equanimity, and wisdom. We have been fortunate to have shared many wonderful memories with him as his friends, and hope to share with you through his poetry the feeling of light he so effortlessly created.

Aloha,

Noah, Alex, and Abby Headwaters Magazine H

Photo from September 2018

Photography by Abby Kaiser

Limitless (front cover)

By Abby Kaiser Acrylic

I chose to paint lily pads floating within a body of water. The stems are intertwined with a school of fish to represent a microcosm within an ecosystem. By showing the stems and fish physically wrapped around one another, I wanted to highlight how each living organism relies on the other to survive.

Before the Storm (back cover)

By Sadie Holmes Watercolor and Ink

My piece represents the fragile beauty of the natural world in the face of climate change. The moth is a symbol of change, but also the ability of life to persist through transformation. The clock, rising waters, and storm clouds on the horizon are a reminder that the time to act is now.