Thursday, July 1, 2010


Clayoquot Sound - August 26, 2000
We leave the bay,
I, looking back,
at the green, green
living island
that I love:
rounded hills
humped under wisps of cloud,
looking like misty Mountains of the Moon;
jellyfish bubbling eerily
among raindrops in the bay,
eagle hunch-shouldered in the rain,
the wake behind the boat
marking the distance
I am forced to travel
again and
yet again
away from the place
where I most belong,
my eyes loving each tree, each hill,
each bird along the way,
my heart singing its
farewell-till-next-time song.
This is the landscape of my soul,
where my spirit
is at home,
where I no longer live.
In my life,
what I most want
to for forever keep,
the Universe
always asks me
one thing:
On the other side of the island,
my lover lives.
With him my heart resides,
my body
constantly journeying
back and forth
for time spent
by his side.
There and away,
there and away,
I go,
taking with me
every golden moment
for I know
it has to
last me
till another day. I gave my heart.
This is the price
I pay.
I live
in the middle,
in between.
Alone, and missing both,
I store
all that there has been,
as nuts for a winter squirrel,
to bring out
when the visits
grow fewer and far between:
a rounded hump of mountain,
his head on the pillow,
his tender smile,
misty cloud on old-growth,
the way we watch the stars a while,
an eagle soaring skywards
in full and joyous flight,
and the way
his tender hand finds mine
within the dark of night.
It seems I am always
driving away
from something I love,
always in a state of longing,
with all my heart
but not belonging.
Why does life require
so much more from me?
Yet I remember
how my soul needs to think.
I am always driving towards
something I love
as well:
that glorious sweep of waves
rushing to shore,
the way my car speeds up
as it heads his way,
the way my heart lifts
at the sight of what once was home
or his face,
lit up in welcome,
that dear face
I spent my whole life
looking for.
My heart waited a lonely lifetime
for happiness to begin;
for my two loves
to find the waiting chambers
of my heart
and move right in.
Now, rich in love,
it has much
with which to fill
those empty rooms:
my ocean-spirit place,
my dear one's face -
my heart,
making its evolutionary journey
via Coombs.

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