turning the tide

What do you do when it’s all done?”   Up at The Entrance he sits and watches . Up at The Entrance I sit, we sit,  and watch . It brings you alive , it keeps you  alive . Well what will you do when it is all done?

 

 

seat at beach

 

 

 

turning the tide
it’s a big sky the horizon
where the sea meets it
would be a lonely line
except for the old man who keeps it company

he knows the weathers personally
sits watches over the lake’s journey into the sea
keeps the tides on track
shepherds their turning    checks they’re on time

what do you do when it’s all done
leathery face  salty beard
his blood-shot eyes
smile contentedly

coastal walk

The following poem coastal walk is the next poem in this section of A Call to Listen

The miracle of silk that we find spun and hidden on mulberry leaves .
So is the miracle of the beauty of rock formations from sand and silt and pebbles laid down, forming rock and then sculptured by the sea and wind sometimes violently like the betrayer and sometimes caressing like a lover.
As we walk from The Entrance Beach around past the baths we enjoy the rocky shelf and headland sculptured by the wind and water and tides. It is waved and striated and patinated and honeycombed and is a joy to the eye.

coastal walk

my eyes trace lines
that curve and swirl
track contours and circled altars
waiting their tide reunion
where only soft padded periwinkles
and sharp edged oyster shells venture
landscapes of sculptures composed
by the dreamtime of water wind and sand
a patterned mosaic
dioramas unfolding
like silken threads from a mulberry tree

each line each ripple
a stretch mark wrinkle scar
has its story

with the tide the ocean
rolls and thunders
sometimes her fingers
like talons scratch and claw
yet eternally patient
her hands caress
love and mould
soothe and soften the violent edges
touch the secret caverns
and with each tide seduce a little more