 |
| Sea Glass |
Pace the sandy shoreline of Cape Breton,
Like musing philosophers hoping to express,
A sentiment in words they chance upon.
Their aim is to glean some shining moment,
From the detritus coughed up by the Atlantic tide,
The mounds of smooth pebbles and seashell fragments,
Washed-up seaweed and kelp, slimy or dry.
To find a sun-caught shard, clear or creamy white,
Lantern green, cola brown, or rare azure blue,
They scrutinize the beach with granular sight,
And bend as if gathering drops of crystallized dew.
They are women absorbed in walking meditation—
A practice known to Buddhists for centuries;
Measured breath, measured step and contemplation,
Unacknowledged members of an ancient sorority.
They walk to leave behind, for a time, chores,
Their men, children, the world; and return to themselves,
The treasure they comb from the ocean shore,
Lies beyond jars of colour displayed on kitchen shelves.
Sea glass is as much imagined as it is real,
A product of the spirit and nature’s artful way,
To beautify used bottles from the town’s old landfill,
Polished and palmed like beads for praying.
2 comments:
A great poetic topic and a great title!. Having read this after "I Went Looking for an Audience", however, I have to say that this poem doesn't grab me in the same way. It's more of a cerebral poem than a "hit you in the kishkas" poem. I'm normally a big fan of cerebral poems, as you know ... so I am going to have to come back to this one on a different day and give it another reading. After all, it might be the only poem you have written that has my name embedded in it, "slimy or dry"!
Had to make the kelp reference. LOL I’m in Cape Breton this week, so this week’s poem had to match my setting. I’m also listening to (re-reading) Yeats, which probably come through.
Post a Comment