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Saturday, April 8, 2017

Alive, on Planet Earth






When the Westerly blows,
clouds scudding across the sky,
and the waves crash thunderously
upon the shore,
when the morning fog
blankets the sides of Meares,
jaggedy treetops poking through
making me catch my breath in wonder,
while the morning fishboats
putt-putt-putt across the harbor,




and the bell tinkles
over the door of the Common Loaf,
all the faces turning to see who just came in,
wet rain-gear sloughed off and steaming
in the warm, bread-scented air,



when the eagle cries atop
his favorite scrag,
and ravens pace the beach
hoping for dropped scraps,
dogs lolloping in and out of the waves
with loopy grins,
and surfers stand to ride, and fall,
and rise again,




when the morning sun breaks
over Lemmens Inlet,
and the jellyfish wake in God's Pocket,
when the seabirds' cries are muted
by the roar of the surf,
and they sit facing seaward in a huddle,
predicting storm,




when sunset paints the entire sky
with colors too fantastic to describe,
after the big fiery old orb has vanished
behind the far horizon,
 little sanderlings weaving and darting
along the shore as one body,
and the sonorous back and forth,
ebbing and flowing,
of the waves' ceaseless 
advancing and retreating
sings us home,

when the wind howls up a tempest
that batters every living thing,
and we hide indoors,
awed by her strength and fury,
wood-stove crackling,
and snug and well-content,

when just being alive and breathing
in this blessed, sacred, forever place
seems more bountiful
than a wagon-load of gold bullion
and I more richly blessed,
there is no Thank You big enough
or sufficient words to tell
how dearly I cherish the beauty,
the sheer awesome
interconnected wonder 
of Clayoquot Sound,
or how grateful I am
to have walked this earth walk
with the song of its waves in my heart,




how, each evening, 
climbing into my purple bed,
each morning, climbing out,
I feel the blessing,
rich with all life's worth,
just to have another day, like this,
alive on Planet Earth.




I re-worked an old poem for my prompt at the Imaginary Garden With Real Toads: to write a love song to the place that says Home to us. I have been granted the extraordinary gift of living in this magical place, not once, but twice in my life, and I could not be more grateful. This is a very alive place in which to spend my sunset years! Do stop by Toads, where you will find some very fine reading, any day of the week.



17 comments:

  1. The heart is truly, deeply, serenely here in these places. Amen and amen and thanks for this postcard of welcoming hope..

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  2. This is so beautiful it brings tears.

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  3. I echo Brendan.. For a moment, I could believe I was there.

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  4. I really like reading the prompter's writing. Yours was true to it, very true to life, we hope.
    I liked writing for the prompted poem, but it turned out "hopeless". Or did it?
    ..

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  5. We all benefit from your blessings, dear poet and photographer. What could be clearer?

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  6. A true and heartfelt blessing rains down gentle gratitude. Just sublime.Thank You for the poem and the prompt.

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  7. Oh this is absolutely gorgeous Sherry❤️ sigh especially love; "when sunset paints the entire sky with colors too fantastic to describe, after the big fiery old orb has vanished behind the far horizon,little sanderlings weaving and darting along the shore as one body, and the sonorous back and forth,
    ebbing and flowing, of the waves' ceaseless advancing and retreating sings us home." Beautifully penned.❤️

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  8. Thank you for kindly spreading your blessings.

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  9. Luv your praise of live lived in gratitude. Your sunsets and purple room . The sound of the waves and loopy dog smiles. I am completely absorbed

    Thanks for taking us in and sharing your blessings

    Much love...

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  10. It's like living inside a Bob Ross painting... your words paint a lovely picture.

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  11. Sounds – and looks – absolutely splendid! I can see how it would capture your heart forever.

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  12. What a beautiful place. Your words helped me to see it, to feel it.

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  13. A heart felt poem of beauty and thanks. Miracles do happen because you found a way back to Tofino against all the odds.

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