Boothbay Harbor, Maine
July 12, 2013
If
you hold a quiet pose
ankle
deep in shallow water
soles
set to fine sand
rooted
into rising tide
that
carved the coves
and
coast of Maine,
perhaps
you’ll feel a touch of grace
washed in warm midsummer
sun
and bathed in midday
joy-song
of brother thrush.
If
you hold as tiny crablettes
scuttle-crawl
across your feet
and
minnows clean your wrinkled toes,
perhaps
you’ll catch the seaweed sway
to
sister moon and lapping wave.
And
if you chance to hold your ground
with
thighs immersed beneath the tide,
perhaps
your pulse will realign,
your
breath reset to offshore breeze,
your
mind at peace with mother sea.
Perhaps
you’ll find your soul
submerged
within the one eternal
moment,
calm as the evening
osprey,
who holds a quiet pose
on
a pole with a view
to
watch the daylight
slowly
fade, his world
dissolve
in shades of gray
and
unobserved, to fly away
as
silence fills the fog-bound night.
 |
| Boothbay Harbor, Maine |
