Thursday, 29 August 2013

The Mystery Of Surface



This is the edge
Where land slips into the sea
From here on
The eye knows only the mystery of surface
A shimmering dance of temptation and dreams.


Here the sea is full of light
With waves foaming froth-filled
All energy and combustion
Beating wind driven onto the shore –
Beyond the breakers the surfers congregate
A bob of slick black seals
Waiting their moment to arrive.


Pines bending to the north wind blow,
A scrap of paper caught momentarily
Amidst the tentacles of dune grasses
Silent words headed for the sea.

  
Layer over layer
Climbing hills and filling valleys
The city’s history sprawls as mercury -
Yet still we come and seek the same
As those upon whom we now tread
In streets thickened by dust and dreams.


How can we ever find our path,
Where there are no way markers -
Just endless beginingless shifts of light
Folding day into night
And night into day.



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