The Mountains of the Moon

[image by britishcolumbia.com]

This poem was written in August, 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 the 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: give.


On the other side of the Island,
my lover lives.
With him, the other half
of 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 somewhere in the middle,
in between.
Alone, and missing both,
I store all that there has been,
carefully, 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,
loving
loving
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 before,
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.