What Light we Bring from Within

There is this above me:

A ring of azure light

marking the moon's absence

this night

this space carved 

of polished water,

whitewashed undulating pebbles

in beach turf,

and history happened here

once upon a time.

As the ocean does not recognize

international boundaries-

eroding the shoreline of one

while building up the other;

I will put this all into one place,

and it will foam up

and overrun all the world’s sand;

it will hide small and large treasures

of great and quiet beauty

and dimensions;

I will hold your spirit

while the moon rises,

without being there,

where the water reflects back

only what light we bring

from within,

where the darkness is met

in a loud and unafraid voice.

There is this behind me:
I see you there, all the dream

I ever wanted,

the imaginal love always needed.

Maybe it is better if you stop loving me,

you said, so here I am

trying to force the ocean

into manmade canals,

straight lines,

places unnatural for it to go.

Have you ever noticed:

the sea herself constructs organically,

and takes away, the same?

Is she better left alone, without

the flawed guiding hand

of human error?

If we actually enter the big water,

We flow, we become:

every artery and vein of the world,

the heartbeat of

the great earth herself,

privy to universal secrets that mermaids

have whispered for eons

from endless wave battered rocks

on countless shores

in boundless places

where water and sky breathe

into each other,

like lovers uniting

in timeless encounters

of universal fluid exchange.

 

Where if they embrace hard enough,

reach deep enough,

and hold each stillly enough…

they hear the messages too.

Is it this same power

that frightens us so?
I always thought

that you were a man to listen

to the songs of mystical creatures

and landscapes, too.

There is below me:

that wet dry feeling of the waterline,

where the edge of forever

meets the daily struggle

for soul sustenance.
We hold the universe in our hands,

inside the calcium carbonate

of molluscs

who met

their timely or untimely demise

in life's shallows and depths.

Therefore, I look for love-

in the abundance of coquinas,

the sheen of a razor clam,

the curve and spire of a murex.

There is this within me:

It is the new moon of August.
Time to examine what we carry,

and what we let go.

I take you with me on every journey,

For the weight of the world

with you in it is a single feather,

a sea breeze at night showing me

the way to the next lighthouse;

but how I ache to

hear your footsteps

besides mine sometimes,

in these places

of transitional boundaries

and wide open opportune spaces.

I breathe in and out,

and my breath becomes

one with the sea,

one with foam,

one with lightness and

one with atmospheric longings.

I stand ankle deep

in just the smaller water,

waiting for you

to meet me here,

even as I feel you

draw further away,

making your own line

of sand prints,

the Prince

who did not find a kingdom

on time to offer me

And there is this before me:

Do you see now,

I am no longer afraid to drown?
Do you see now,

I have never feared your dark?
Do you see now,

it has always been you?
Do you see now,

I would not have left you

to fend for yourself

in the tall breakers?

I may never get the chance

to swim in your storm waters,

but please do not deny me

the very desire itself to do so.

Author's Note

translated into Spanish here:

http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/zorra_encantada/1606202/

Reviews

[Ken Simm.]

I have tried to be Canute for my own thoughts so many times. For my disparate or desperate emotions. I always felt that if I could take someone with me and if they would also understand; I would then be more complete myself.
The vastness of what you convey here takes my breath away. It does things to me, and I would imagine many other empathic readers, on a visceral level. It hits centre. Not slightly off, not just beyond bull but dead centre. A remarkable poem coming from a remarkable mind.

[Mary]

I have read this many times, and with each reading, the light is brighter, the ocean deeper. The final two lines say it all!

[emmajoy]

'I take you with me on every journey, -- For the weight of the world -- with you in it is a single feather, --
a sea breeze at night showing me -- the way to the next lighthouse; '

Read three times to find the core, the root, the foundation of your extraordinary mind. I've slid from the desire for a lover near out of reach to an ocean that would swallow you whole. The depths and shallows of both seems interlaced, interlocked - each of them reflecting your need to feel and understand the enormity of presence. The ocean can literally swallow you whole and leave nothing recognisable over time; a lover turns, goes and perhaps takes all feeling but leaves the shell. Perhaps.

Probably misinterpreted, could read and read for a year and still be unsure. But to read your words is a lesson in focus.. a discipline framed in wonder. Dear you, thank you, for testing me..

[h d e rushin]

I feel the vastness of what you're trying to convey my friend. And there is no need trying to break
apart the ekphrasis point of view, the commentary on the visual part of what is otherwise
spiritual. When I was in the Navy the very first image of the ocean scared me speechless.
What a complex body of liquid, so vigorous in spirit and aggressive in its vastness. And in the final
few stanzas you speak to a lover like the ocean speaks to sunken ships: do not deny that
I will never give in to what is mine.

You are a fine writer of poetry my friend..And I have said this for a few years now.
love always....dana