After the Waves

The water

pulls back

and I see him again.

Eyes that have carried storms

soften under the light

 of the kitchen,

 the quiet hum of a fridge

 like a lighthouse keeping watch.

He speaks in small phrases,

each one a step

 back from places

 I cannot follow.

I touch his hand.

It trembles.

Not the hand that wields fear

 but the hand that still reaches.

Outside, the ocean continues,

but inside this room

 the waves are ours alone,

 broken and receding,

 leaving stones

 we can stand on.

I hold him.

And for a moment

 the dark is just a shadow

 that passed,

and I am the lighthouse

 that waits.

Reviews

[Samuel Dickens]

I read this several times in order to understand, and it seems there's a woman who makes herself a safe harbor for a man who exhibits all the fury, tumult, and power of the ocean. Perhaps it's not his choice to be that way, so she is there to calm, guide, and embrace when it's all just too much for him.

[Curly Grace]

Sam, it's one three that goes together. Maybe that's why it wasn't landing? This is the last. The full trilogy: Lighthouse Wife, Ten Rings, and this After the Waves

[Samuel Dickens]

I see. I shall need to read the others. Hopefully, I'll get the full picture.

[John the Baptist]

Interesting symbolism here. The lighthouse is the speaker, a light that beams on despite the relentlessness of the waves, which may represent the storms of life. But who is the mysterious male presence that appears when the waves recede? Hard to say, but he is a figure of strength for the speaker, who waits for his reappearance.

[Yellow Submarine.]

This is excellent. (I kept thinking of the Moses account in scripture as I read this.)

sweetly romantic!

[Brandon Houser]

This was very sweet and gentle. A nice refrain for someone dealing with storms.