here are we
curled and contained
in this room
high above the breathable sea
bathed in a shaft of moonlight
drifting in dreams
holding on tight as the world turns
our breath swells and sinks with the waves
sea shells follow the tide line below
left behind at the turning
bleached and beached on the white sand
time wears the solid rock to small grains
energy moves from this place to that
nothing is ever the same
but remains
and repeats
and remains
eternal
curled and contained
why would you go to sea, she said,
when there’s food to be had in the shops ~
to feel the strength of the swelling waves
and to know the threat of the rocks
and to hear the souls in the unfathomed deep
where the creatures of legend drift and roll
and dream of us in their sleep
and to hear the bell of the solemn buoy
and the voice of the fog horn blow
when it sings to us through the seething mists
in the storm as it bellows and grows
and the wild whipping wind
and the timbers’ groan
and to follow the stars in the dark
and to enter the harbour’s sanctuary
and rejoice to be home at last
where we sit to mend our broken nets
while you sit in your safe place at home
because
in the days
under the sun
it’s another story
blue silent and deep
loud white rolling
thundering in
green light through wave curl
sun sparkle shimmering
drawn back slowly, heavy
to rush fast back toward me again
holding my eyes for fast passing hours
captured in a spell
moving with my breath
the moons pull
spins me in force
pulls me down
throws me out
gasping to the sky
transformed by strong waves
cragged rock is smoothed to round stone
grit becomes pure pearl
all week we gathered driftwood
following the storm
and dragged it to the yard
to dry out in the sun
i watched you racing children
jumping rock to rock
always sure-footed
you never made a slip
pied piper running,
Cheshire cat grin
always on the tide line
when the tide is coming in
the tides come in
the tides go out
sunset, moonlight, dawns
each day the wood is drying
we built the fire together
just beyond the waves
carefully constructed
encouraging the flame
we threw more wood on
as the light began to fall
we sat and watched the sun go down
a blazing golden ball
passing strangers watching
stood on the path above
they thronged like curious moths
you called them to the fire
they ask do we live here
they say how fortunate we are
you smiled and wandered off
always to the tide line
i watched you from afar
the waves rolled in
the waves rolled out
beneath the evening star
The Sea Never Sleeps
On sleepless nights I drift away
to the house by the rolling sea
where the waves wash home to the shore
pulled out, away, by the moon.
The sound of the waves, the sound of my breath,
in sleep, take me, wash me away,
born on a breathe, borne on a wave
with no dreams to trouble me.
This sleep eludes me tonight.
I find myself
out on the reef
out on the windswept headland
where moonlight shines the way.
The breakers beat the granite rock.
The wind whips and pulls at my hair.
The coarse headland grass whips and sings.
The stars gliding from east to west
a line of light rises at dawn
silvered horizon, the sun.
I wander along the coastal path
past stone walls and the gentle stream,
the sweet vanilla scent of gorse.
I feel a need to keep walking.
I swing through the kissing gate,
warm, smoothed wood under my hand,
on through a field and then further
to the finger of land, reaching out,
high, high up, alone and free,
resting my gaze on the beautiful blue,
forever, curve of the bay.
The Dreaming Path 