Friday, October 24, 2008
If the tides had an answer
to the unfathomable question
and the tides, toing and froing
conjured up the perfect shell;
would the heart be open to it?
Tidal pull, tugging at the heart's complexity
dark, somewhere trying to hear itself,
within sounds continuous, insistent motion.
Silence, is a streamlined space
garnished with shaker insects
and water flow.
Saltwater, transparently clear to crocodile murky in a couple of hours;
light today so clear you could see every tree on Cape Flattery.
So, we all emerged from the tides,
pulled shorewards by the desire to walk
on this land.
Connectivity and separation,
the stranded starfish, found by the
children at low tide and left out
to die slowly in the sun.
Land and sea, land and sea, land and sea,
land and sea