February 19, 2012
When
Gaia dreams of happy times
she
makes an August beach again
and
recreates our former lives
the
swirl of sibling – parent – child
converge
once more along the strand
to
build a playscape castle-strong
with
towers, turrets, moats and walls
well
fortified with broken shells
to
hold against onrushing tide
and
toddler joy unleashed on sand
quite
unconstrained, still unashamed
to
taste the foam fresh off the ocean
chasing
wavelets back to sea
from
splashing edge of tidal line
immersed
in rhythms of the deep.
The sparkling whoosh
and hissing sigh
a pause and whoosh
and hiss again
eternity lies
in sparkle and
sigh
in plaintive cries
that pierce the tide
the shriek of gull
and wide-eyed child
the wind, the marsh
the march
of time
as oceans ebb
as oceans flood
the line recedes
the line returns
embracing our castles
erected in fun
erasing our idols
to
midsummer sun
reclaiming our
castles
of sparkle and sigh
as pound and whoosh
subside through hiss
to sigh and pause
and pound again
till all lies flat
along the strand
our traces cleansed
beneath the sky.
The
beach reboots with each new tide
and
with each dawn come fresh new signs
the
dance of bird and fiddler crab
their
stride and scuttle mark short lives
impressed
on prints of last night’s tide
with
curving ripples caught in sand
where
mornings saw us start again
to
build new castles at the line
where
tidal reach exceeds its grasp
and
drops new loads of broken lives
from
shell-borne burden, structures rise
and
laughter thrives amidst the sighs
when
daylight fades on childhood lives
small
silhouettes cross red-streaked sky
as
glowing days give way to night.
So year by year
we’d
go again
to Gaian dreamscapes
salt
and sand
and strings of days
outside
of time
to build our children
castle
strong
shaped and formed
by loving hands
and fortified
by strands of sun
with salt of oceans
salt of tears
when dreams erode
like drying sand
when fresh winds rise
when waves pile high
when time returns
as bracing tide
it’s we who long
and lag behind
their fortunes rise
from
times gone by
in Gaia’s dreams
where joy thrives
their sun ascends
to sparkle, sigh
from sand cathedral
dreams
of life.
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I really like it. It definitely reminds me of the annual beach week. I like the simile of building sand castles to building memories and bonds with eachother.
ReplyDeleteMother Gaia (promiscuous even by Greek mythical standards) delivered us cathedral dreams of salt and sand. For who has not pressed their knees in sand and built a castle that would not stand the ebb and flow of nature's hand. Thank you for the memories.
ReplyDeleteRichard
I love this.
ReplyDeleteAs I read this poem I was reminded of a time, long ago (before the internet) when I would sit and read poetry and contemplate life ...and living. Now, I feel the constant tug to find out more and more about what's going on in the rest of the world via this internet, yet am feeling perpetually bruised by the force of its unending waves.
Your poetry causes me to long for gentler landscapes.
Your poem helped crystalize in my mind that beach weeks are one of the things we (I, anyway) live for. Both an end and a means for good life.
ReplyDeleteBob, this touched me deeply because my own childhood was rich with many yearly trips to the sea. Also my children's favorite vacation memories are those we spent on the Gulf Coast. So rich with deep feeling and philosophical insights as well as poignant memories.
ReplyDeleteI loved this and am so sorry it has taken me so long to get around to reading it.
Susan Bagley