I may be in a trance;
wind cuts down from the north,
sea rolls in driven waves,
the tide ebbing south.
Dark grey sky above,
hints of blue and gold
where the rising sun
lights behind the clouds.
I wandered in my dreams
between worlds not understood
yet this morning the beauty
of your presence
brings me to my knees.
Society but a skin
I shed in silence,
quiet my solace,
the sea my embrace.
I never cared for pretense.
I loved what I was supposed to love
but good works only go so far,
the honorable drivers
of an unrelenting wheel.
The mask falls away
in the presence of the earth;
at last I am a creature
I can understand.
At home in my skin
nothing is foreign.
A plane cracks overhead
but I remain empty
gazing on the sea,
wind driven once more,
carried by the tide.
I often wonder what an eagle thinks as a plane passes overhead…
Sure hand of a poet in this one. I love the way it unfolds. Thanks much.
Happening here, too, Don. All those wonderful and sacred things I clung to are things of the past. I am open, vulnerable, and yes, oh yes, empty.
“At home in my skin
nothing is foreign”
…sigh…a salty drop
stains my stationery…
too much foreign…too much
Thank you, Don.
So fine, Bro. Thank you… I especially like the lack of pretense and the power of coming home to yourself… resonates w/ me, Don.
At last I am a creature that I can understand…poignant and true……
“Nothing is foreign . . . ” and “. . . but I remain empty.” In the world, but not of it. Very clear resolution of the non dual tension between immanence and transcendence to simply be one with both. Wonderful, carefully written poem, brother, Thank you.
Love the line about finally being a creature in the presence of nature. Nicely done.
Yes
Truly beautiful images and energy expressed in this poem Don, I’m definitely feeling it! Thank you.
This poem wavers between the lyric and the prosaic, but the weave really works for me–and I am in profound rapport with the core poem, that’s for sure!