Sometimes a drift is the only sign
as I go where the sea
flows, read
fishtail swirls and wind dimples,
attempt to understand the pulse of waves.
The sea speaks, even from great distance,
I can never truly lose her- as if some part,
some inseparable part of happiness-
necessary, like breath before laughter.
I find a thought of the sea
in billowed clouds sails, in wind swept treetops;
siren call of her voice rises in pauses
between spoken words and ambient sound.
Just as I’d stand on trembled shores
try to reach beyond edge of water and sky
only to imagine- she is still there
rolling on the rounding belly of the world
on turn to the place I stand but only if I too
spin with pregnant swells of land .
Wandered above gentle touches; waves to shore
a rush of wind becomes her exhale;
misty air a salty kiss, and mind
brings a breathless immersion
I can never truly lose her, for she
is the sweetness of air
2 comments:
such deep penetrating and touching description of the sea as a female, in Russian this word is 'neuter' gender, that's why i'd never associate it with 'she'. That's the beauty o the English language -you can assign gender roles to words which don't have clear endings, and thus create the image you want -ands the image you've created her, Howard, is so dear to me -after reading this poem i almost tasted salty water on my lips.. thank you!
Lady M
yes i know that feeling, overwhelms a moment; language can be a poor messenger and sometimes it elevates our thoughts into more than we imagine- a prism of thought--and you such a student...you have the heart of a student- finding questions and answers-- so lovely...H
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