Today's post includes the third in the trilogy of poems taken from “The Journey” collection. Each was written in response to an experience at the beach. The first, Beach Walk, about Cat was written in 2005 at Mission Beach, San Diego, Beach Ride at Klalaloch Beach, pronounced Klay-Lock, on the Washington Coast in 2007; and Beyond the Beach I wrote for BJ this year at Moonlight Beach in Encinitas, California. Each is a touchstone on the byways of my journey over the last seven years.
Beach Walk
Days have turned twice through the seasons,
but seasons of sorrow have an order of their own.
Winter endures beyond its snows
blanketing my heart.
I walk alone.
Like a wisp of her hair, a dawn breeze
brushes my face touching the moment.
The thought of her smile draws back
the curtain of my memory slowing my pace.
I walk back in time.
A rising fog offering a summer sky
lifts me into the present.
I let her go
until we walk together.
I walk on.
Beach Ride
I must choose.
Beach Ride
I ride on the edge of the world.
A rising tide laps at my wheels
like a spaniel at my feet.
An endless line of cedars silhouetted
against the eastern sky points to the future.
At their feet lay a jumble of giant pickup sticks
strewn by the sea as testament to its might.
An open sky is punctuated
by the occasional winged hunt for breakfast.
Into it the towering candle
of the Destruction Island lighthouse
stands sentinel warning ships of disaster,
but who is there to warn me?
The broad expanse of the beach beckons,
but with no trail marked.
The sand, washed smooth by the night tide,
is devoid of track or print.
My path is limited only
by the hazards of soft sand and the ocean.
Beyond the Beach
Consumed by endless tides
The sand slips away unseen
Beckoned by time.
I walk back into the future.
In the atlas of my mind
I bolt over the miles
Seeking your presence.
You are my destination.
Away from the setting sun
I journey into new moments
Buoyed by the light of your spirit.
My path is straight.
My heart leaps across a desert
Shrouded by the pale of nightfall
Closing on the past.
I am going home.
From the visages of yesterdays
I emerge to embrace you
To be swathed in love.
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