THE SEA AT THE EDGE OF LIGHT

Extemporaneous Insanity

“Madness,” said they,
“risky, foolhardy.”
“Scary,” said I,
to blow with the wind
from a life all in order,
to leave with my love, a new love,
for dunes stark and cold,
and high on the map
in nowhere’s middle—
and worse, at an age
the lithe, blithe
and youngerly
call old and finished
and that dreadful word,
elderly.
To the wind I asked,
“When will I find a better later?
Now was once later;
now will soon be yesterday;
the next later
could drop off the edge
of some flat earth of future.”
And the wind answered, “Go!”

SO I DID

With no wings
to fly like the raven
no feathers, fragile bones and fiber,
I flew with the wings of dreams,
flew to the sea…..

FEATHERS OF THE PRESENT

Even birds know
we cannot hold onto
the hummingbird’s blur
or the feathers of air under a seagull’s wings…..

DOWN TO THE LONG WAVES

The long waves, weaving tales of life and death,
come like the wind with its stories.
These waters with their power,
their calm, terrible, wonderful voices
tell us how miraculous
it is that we are each a small word
in the language of the waves.

AN ABSOLUTE

I do not ask
what if
I had not moved
from the safe to the uncertain,
what if
I had not unfolded the wings of dreams…..