Month: July 2019

Here I am a stranger
among the nesting dotterels
and the lazing oyster catchers,
the sea sparkles
beneath the morning sun,
sings a lullaby to the shore.

Undisturbed under the rays
of a still, winter sun,
the tide of a thousand years
laps at my feet at Scandritt Bay
as if it has known me all its life.

In the stillness comes the whisper
to forge the road, to turn the page ,
to write new moments
upon the heart of tomorrow;
it can be heard in the rasping of the tide.

And as the sun filters through the grey cloud,
and sweeps clear the wide, blue sky,
she fixes her eyes distantly, catches
the cry of the sadness and waters
the vase for the red rose that blooms.

There is no expectation in her eyes
as she counts back the moments ,
recounts the light, the dark, the tears
and the laughter that sink slowly
beneath the surface of the sea.

She is here now alongside the waning tide,
the silent sea, the low sky, the quiet day
that guards her; she wonders how she
will keep dancing after the band
has called it a day.

There were no candles
to be found on the cake,
in fact, there was no cake;
cream and pikelets though,
a cup of tea, brothers
and sisters and a long,
distant look in his eyes.

Come run beside the drumming
of my fragile heart,
drink in the moments of grace
midst the sea of sin
and take small rides to little venues
where possibilities begin.

Sometimes I just want to lie
beneath the moon, full and round,
drinking in the solitude,
taking joy in that easy yoke
and lay to rest the breathless stroke
and the constant fear of drowning.

I never was much good at swimming
lungs bursting with each painful stroke,
sometimes I fight to stay afloat
sometimes I slip beneath the surface
and wonder how far down I can go
before I’m lifted by the hand of grace.