photo of sunrise at South Chestermans by Stephanie
At Poetry Jam, the prompt this week is: Water. Always this one body of water calls to me, since those glorious years when I walked the beach daily, in joy and gratitude.
At the base of the rocks
on Frank's Island,
the waves meet in a
swirling whirling gyre
called The Cauldron,
making a sound
as powerful
as fire
and it spins,
as if it is being
stirred to a chanting croon
by a black robed figure
with a long-handled
wooden spoon,
as, wave after wave,
the sea
comes crashing in.
Look down.
See the roiling circle made?
How waves break
against the rocks,
and shatter,
tide pools laid bare
full of small life
that matters,
witches' brew,
frothing,
bubbling,
mesmerizing you,
till one could almost
topple into
its eternal stew.
One early morning
we gathered there
at dawn.
Between island and shore,
a labyrinth was drawn,
that we walked,
me behind,you before,
waiting for sunrise,
when winter would be
no more.
Gail and Clay,
in cloaks,
walked across
the strip of land,
Clay carrying a lighted torch
within his proud
eight year old hand,
rolled tube of paper
lit and smoking,
as in days of olde,
sparks flying fast,
smell of scorched cloth,
as we stood smiling
in the windy morning
cold.
As we completed
the circular path,
fine-drawn,
the water was
covering our feet,
and the path we
walked upon.
We had to dash
before the waves
rolled in, head-on,
both sides of the tide
in the middle met;
in only moments,
the labyrinth
was gone.
It was Spring Equinox,
the coming of the light,
after winter's storm
dispelling dark of night.
Surrounding us
was nature's
wild array:
glorious sea,
rolling hills,
long sandy beach,
the place I thought
I would forever stay,
each day the world
all painted
pink and new,
spread there
like a banquet
just for me
and you.
The song of the sea
eternally
sings to me,
cry of a gull,
scent of salt
and seaweed
on the air,
white-maned
wild-horse waves
galloping in
with mighty roar.
I'll remember,
I'll remember,
in my heart
forevermore,
the joy of living
by water
on that
wild and
western shore.
Awww... this is so lovely. sad, wistful, yet so joyous too.
ReplyDeleteI cannot imagine not living by, or, seeing water every day. It would slowly kill my soul (I think) This is a wonderful capture of everything you loved about your shore there Sherry.
It is amazing how there are just some places where our soul does feel as if it's come home. This must be yours.
Lovely.
This is beautiful, Sherry. You have captured your favorite shore so beautifully. I love 'white-maned, wild horse waves.' Perfect capture. Lovely memories in this poem of YOUR place. I do hope that you can return soon to YOUR water that refreshes your soul.
ReplyDeleteSo beautiful and engaging of all the senses. I felt as if I were there with you. The ocean is part of me, too.
ReplyDeleteWhat a glorious walk on the beach. The sea is a magical place, and one full of memories. A beautiful write.
ReplyDeletewhat a place you live in...nice
ReplyDelete...the milk bone line seems to be a dividing point
Lovely tribute to the sea you love and miss. How fortunate that you can revisit it like this in such detailed memory. Nice writing.
ReplyDeleteI believe the call of the sea resides in so many ... it is obvious how much you loved it, walking in the sand, the connection you felt then, still do. Your poem is lovely.
ReplyDeleteFabulous, Sherry. I felt I was there, although I've never yet visited "that wild and western shore".
ReplyDeleteOne of these days we'll stop rambling around the world and do some BC-rambling, I hope.
K
Lovely, Sherry....your imagery took me back to Long Beach with it's endless stretch of sand and raucous waves.I could see and smell every delight you described...a wonderful treat for the senses!
ReplyDeleteWow, I am speechless ~ This is a lovely capture of that walk in the beach cold, Spring Equinox, song of the sea ~ That last stanza is particularly moving as wild horse waves galloping on the wild shore ~
ReplyDeletewow your descriptions are magic....filled with imagery and sound....love it much...and i miss living by the water myself....we used to live in Tampa and would go to the beach often...
ReplyDeleteSherry, I was walking with you and the torch, feeling the water, the salt--really loved the phrase" white maned, wild horse waves"
ReplyDeleteThey do gallop, don't they? Lovely!
This is the most complete and perfect sea from land poem I have ever read. You capture everything. I love the NW Pacific too. How did I know it is what you describe, because you described it so perfectly, and because I lived there, traveled there. So beautifully done, not just the sea but you and the sea, no detail left out. And, another hint, "wild and western shore." Plus I know you live there, where I would love to live. Love "white-maned wild-horse waves galloping in with mighty roar…" and all the rest of the poem from beginning to end. Beautiful, perfect, wonderful. Thank you.
ReplyDeletewhat a world by the sea, in the sea, of it. stirring as you told it, beginning at frank's island and ending in the song. favs: white-maned wild-horse waves galloping in with mighty roar, and mesmerize you.
ReplyDeleteOh, Sherry this is magnificent!! Your descriptions are so vivid I feel I could submerge myself in them. I love the bit about the labyrinth and the likening of the waves to wild white horses! Excellent!
ReplyDeleteThe sound of water, it is everything.
ReplyDeleteOh, YES. This: "The song of the sea
ReplyDeleteeternally
sings to me"
Me, too, Sherry. Me, too.
Beautiful i almost walked with you.....
ReplyDelete