e117 - deeper into the forest

(in memoriam Robin Mathews : November 1, 1931 - April 25, 2023)

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(Deeper Into the Forest (2023) poem by Robin Mathews, narrated by Robin Mathews with sound design from field recordings by me)

Deeper Into the Forest

Lights flash in the skies above.

Voices sound….

As if coming over a hill,

As if connected to bodies

Out of reach,

(perhaps, even, the products of imagination)

Except… you know the voices,

You recognize (or think you recognize)

The lights.

You know the message

Even before it is uttered.

The pathway you walk upon is narrow, rough.

It leads deeper into the forest….

It leads down a steep hillside

To water … to the water's edge

And down into the water … down …

Into it and under it

Where another forest grows

Of a richness you do not expect to see.

You do not expect to walk

Under the branches of that forest -

Branches above your head 

Moving

As if guided by unseen currents 

Of wind … or of water ….

Overhead … there  is something like a surface

You can never reach;

And above that surface there are voices - 

Or a simulacrum of voices -

As if coming from over a hill, distant, unclear…

Or as if connected tenuously to bodies

Out of reach.

You know the voices

And you know they cannot shape words

That will break the surface over your head.

Lights flash in the skies above,

Dart through the water.

But words do not form.

The surface above you

(which you cannot break through)

Closes…

And the voices, as if caught in a settling wind,

Diminish … and then cease.

In the darkness that moves toward you

As if it were a living creature

The voices fade away … or seem to fade away…

And you know the surface above your head

Will not break.

The voices beyond the surface

Will grow distant and imperfect

And you, quite alone, will move deeper into the forest

Where sounds occur … almost as if voices

Are reaching for communication, 

As if coming from over a hill, distant, unclear,

As if connected tenuously to bodies

Out of reach.

You know the voices

And you know they cannot shape words

that will break the surface over your head.

Lights flash in the skies above, 

Dart through the water. 

But words do not form.

The surface above you,

Which you cannot break through.

Closes….

In the darkness that moves toward you

As if a living creature

The voices fade away … or seem to fade away,

And you know the surface above your head

Will not break.

The voices beyond the surface 

Will grow distant and imperfect

And you, quite alone, will move deeper into the forest.

*

This poem was written on January 1, 2023 by my father in law, the poet, playwright, literary critic, political activist, and educator Robin Mathews at age 91. 

 

The poem relates to ‘Sounding Modernity’ by the way it evokes our ability to remember and feel our environment. 

This episode is dedicated to him and his wife Esther Mathews with thanks to the Mathews family.

A short bonus episode is also available with a conversation with Robin about the poem. 

Robin is a Canadian icon who is regarded as a Canadian nationalist par excellence. For over 60 years Mathews fought for Canadians of all races and origins-–and for Canadian independence. His contributions to the preservation, development and promotion of Canadian culture are exceptional and unique. 

For more information see:

• https://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/robin-mathews
• https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robin_Mathews_(poet)
• https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Canadianization_movement
• https://abcbookworld.com/writer/mathews-robin/

I am grateful and accountable to the earth and the human labour that provided me with the privilege of producing this episode. (including all the toxic materials and extractive processes behind the computers, recorders, transportation and infrastructure that make this podcast possible).

My gesture of reciprocity for this episode is to Vancouver Aboriginal Friendship Centre Society

*

END NOTES FOR ALL EPISODES

Hey conscient listeners, 

I’ve been producing the conscient podcast as a learning and unlearning journey since May 2020 on un-ceded Anishinaabe Algonquin territory (Ottawa). 

It’s my way to give back.

In parallel with the production of the conscient podcast and its francophone counterpart, balado conscient, I I publish free ‘a calm presence' Substack see https://acalmpresence.substack.com.

Your feedback is always welcome at [email protected] and/or on social media: Facebook, Instagram, Linkedin, Threads, BlueSky, Mastodon, Tik Tok, YouTube and Substack.

Share what you like, etc

I am grateful and accountable to the earth and the human labour that provided me with the privilege of producing this podcast, including the toxic materials and extractive processes behind the computers, recorders, transportation systems and infrastructure that made this production possible. 

Claude Schryer

Latest update on July 8, 2025