(in memoriam Robin Mathews : November 1, 1931 - April 25, 2023)(bell)(Deeper Into the Forest (2023) poem by Robin Mathews, narrated by Robin Mathews with sound design from field recordings by me)Deeper Into the ForestLights flash in the skies above.Voices sound….As if coming over a hill,As if connected to bodiesOut of reach,(perhaps, even, the products of imagination)Except… you know the voices,You recognize (or think you recognize)The lights.You know the messageEven before it is uttered.The pathway you walk upon is narrow, rough.It leads deeper into the forest….It leads down a steep hillsideTo water … to the water's edgeAnd down into the water … down …Into it and under itWhere another forest growsOf a richness you do not expect to see.You do not expect to walkUnder the branches of that forest -Branches above your head MovingAs if guided by unseen currents Of wind … or of water ….Overhead … there  is something like a surfaceYou 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 bodiesOut of reach.You know the voicesAnd you know they cannot shape wordsThat 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 youAs if it were a living creatureThe voices fade away … or seem to fade away…And you know the surface above your headWill not break.The voices beyond the surfaceWill grow distant and imperfectAnd you, quite alone, will move deeper into the forestWhere sounds occur … almost as if voicesAre reaching for communication, As if coming from over a hill, distant, unclear,As if connected tenuously to bodiesOut of reach.You know the voicesAnd you know they cannot shape wordsthat 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 youAs if a living creatureThe voices fade away … or seem to fade away,And you know the surface above your headWill not break.The voices beyond the surface Will grow distant and imperfectAnd 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-mathewshttps://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robin_Mathews_(poet)https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Canadianization_movementhttps://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 EPISODESHey conscient listeners, I’ve been producing the conscient podcast as a learning and unlearning journey since May 2020. It’s my way to give back.This Indigenous Land Acknowledgement statement was developed by members of the Algonquin community for my former employer the Canada Council for the Arts. I have adapted slightly to make it my own.I acknowledge that my studio, located in Ottawa, is on the unceded, unsurrendered Territory of the Anishinaabe Algonquin Nation whose presence here reaches back to time immemorial.I recognize the Algonquins as the customary keepers and defenders of the Ottawa River Watershed and its tributaries. I honour their long history of welcoming many Nations to this beautiful territory and uphold and uplift the voice and values of our Host Nation.Further, I offer my respect and affirm the inherent and Treaty Rights of all Indigenous Peoples across this land and honour commitments to self-determination and sovereignty that have been made to Indigenous Nations and Peoples.I acknowledge the historical oppression of lands, cultures and the original Peoples in what we now know as Canada and fervently believe the Arts contribute to the healing and decolonizing journey we all share togetherIn parallel with the production of the conscient podcast and its francophone counterpart, balado conscient, I I publish a free ‘a calm presence' monthly 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, etcI 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 SchryerLatest update on January 9, 2026

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