BEACHSIDE REVERIES

 

 

 

 

AMONG THE STONES

 

 

I AM DOWN AMONG THE STONES

AMONG THE ROCKS THAT LITTER THE SHORE

AMONG THE POOLS THE OCEAN HAS LEFT

LITTLE TREASURE TROVES OF SEA LIFE

I AM DOWN AMONG THE STONES

IT IS PEACEFUL HERE

THE OCEAN IS A SIBILANT IN THE DISTANCE

 

I AM BETWEEN THE TIDES

I AM BETWEEN INFUSIONS

THE POURING IN OF MEDICINES

TO MAKE ME WELL

 

ODD WORD FOR ME

IT HAS ALWAYS MEANT

THE POURING IN OF THE SPIRIT

HIS INDWELLING IN ME

HIS WORKING LIKE THE MEDICINES

DRIVING OUT THE BAD

 

THE MEDICINE

IS GIVEN TO ME

WHEN I AM AT MY BEST

BETWEEN THESE TIMES

THERE COMES THE POINT

WHEN I AM AT MY WORST

PHYSICALLY

EMOTIONALLY

THEY CALL IT THE NADIR

 

I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN TROUBLED

AND UNSURE

ABOUT HOW TO HANDLE

PAIN AND SORROW

SHOULD I BE ANGRY AT MY FATE

SHOULD I ACCEPT IT

AND MAKE IT WORK

OR WILL I BE OVERWHELMED BY IT

IN TRUTH I OFTEN HAVE DONE ALL THREE

SOMETIMES SIMULTANEOUSLY

 

THE BEST SEEMS TO BE

TAKE IT AND MAKE IT WORK

TO TRY TO BE AT PEACE

 

SO I AM DOWN

AMONG THE STONES

AMONG THE ROCKS

QUIET AND PEACEFUL IN THIS PLACE

BETWEEN THE TIDES

BETWEEN INFUSIONS

I AM OPEN

TO THE WHISPERINGS OF THE SPIRIT

WHICH STRANGELY SOUND

LIKE THE SIBILANT SOUNDS OF THE SEA

 

 

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SAND

 

 

SITTING ON THE BEACH

SIFTING SAND FROM MY HAND

WATCHING THE WIND TAKE IT AWAY

MAKING NEW CONTOURS ON THE SHORE

ALWAYS RESTLESS

ALWAYS MOVING

 

I MAKE A MARK IN THE SAND

BUT THE WIND COMES

AND IT IS NO MORE

ITS PLACE IS GONE FROM MEMORY

 

THE WIND BLOWS WHERE IT CHOOSES

AND NO ONE KNOWS

 WHERE IT COMES FROM

OR WHERE IT GOES

 

I LOOK AT THE SAND AND SEA

AND THINK

       WHO HAS GATHERED UP THE WIND

IN THE HOLLOW OF HIS HANDS
       WHO HAS WRAPPED UP THE WATERS

IN HIS CLOAK
       WHO HAS ESTABLISHED

ALL THE ENDS

OF THE EARTH
       WHAT IS HIS NAME,

AND THE NAME OF HIS SON
       TELL ME IF YOU KNOW

 

THE SAND IS BLOWING WHERE IT WILL

THE OCEAN IS SAFELY IN ITS PLACE

AND I

INSIGNIFICANT

AS A GRAIN OF SAND

GOING WHERE THE WIND WILL TAKE ME

CONTENT

THAT GOD WILL TAKE CARE

OF HIS OWN

 

 

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FANTASY

 

 

WHY DO I ALWAYS FEEL

THAT THE OCEAN WAVES

ARE CARRYING MESSAGES

FROM A DISTANT LAND

 

AS IF GOD IS DIPPING HIS FINGER

IN THE WATER

AND IS TALKING TO ME

 

IN WAYS I DON’T UNDERSTAND

 

WHY DOES GOD SPEAK TO ME

IN MYSTERIOUS WAYS

 

A FANTASY PERHAPS

BUT THEN I OFTEN LIVE IN FANTASY

 

THAT MEN WILL LIVE WELL

AND HONOR GOD

 

THAT GOVERNMENTS WILL SPEAK TRUTH

 

THAT THE POOR

WILL HAVE THE GOSPEL PREACHED TO THEM

NOT JUST TO KEEP THEM

IN THEIR PLACE

BUT A PLACE AMONG THE HAVES

 

THAT NO CHILD WILL GO TO BED HUNGRY

 

THAT NO ONE WILL BE DESTITUTE IN OLD AGE

 

THAT WORK WILL BE REWARDED BY WAGES

SUFFICIENT TO LIVE DECENTLY

 

THAT WAR WILL BE AN HISTORICAL ITEM

THAT GOD’S VOICE

 

IS LIKE THE WAVES ON THE OCEAN SHORE

WHISPERING ALWAYS

LOVE

LOVE ONE ANOTHER

LOVE

 

REPEATEDLY

INCESSANTLY

SOMETIMES FRIGHTENINGLY

MOST TIMES PEACEFULLY

 

GOD WRITES OUR SINS UPON THE WATER

AND THE WAVES TAKE THEM AWAY

 

THE WAVES COME UPON THE SHORE

AND TELL THE WORLD

FORGIVE

AS I HAVE FORGIVEN YOU

 

LIVE WELL

 

REMEMBER EVEN FANTASIES COME TRUE

 

AND THE SEA AND THE WIND OBEY HIM

 

 

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THE SEA

 

 

THE SEA IS ANGRY TODAY

MADLY IT THROWS ITSELF AGAINST THE SHORE

BEATING ITSELF UPON THE BREAKWATER

SPRAYING FOAM AND SEA HORSES IN THE AIR

THE WIND SCREAMS IN AGONY AT THE MAYHEM

AND THE SEAGULLS ADDS TO THE SCENE

WITH THEIR CALLING

THEIR MANIACAL LAUGHTER

 

ODD THE WAY WE GIVE TO NATURE

MAN-LIKE SYMPTOMS

 

ODD THE WAY WE GIVE TO GOD

SYMPTOMS OF AN ANGRY FATHER

THOUGH IN MANY CASES

HE HAS HIS OWN WORDS TO BLAME

 

BUT I PREFER THE IMAGE OF LOVING MOTHER

WHO FORGIVES HER WAYWARD CHILD

WHILE ENCOURAGING HIM TO DO BETTER

 

THERE ARE TIMES WHEN THE SOUL FINDS PEACE

NOT OFTEN

BUT THERE ARE TIMES

WHEN THE MOTHER

HOLDS YOU TO HER BOSOM

 

THEN SETS YOU DOWN

SAYING

GO PLAY

GO WORK

GO MAKE THE WORLD BETTER

GO MAKE YOURSELF BETTER

AND KNOW THAT IN THE STRONGEST STORM

I CAN SAY

PEACE

BE STILL

 

 

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DELAWARE BAY

 

IT WAS LOW TIDE WHEN WE GOT THERE

BAYSIDE IN THE MID OF WINTER

AFTER A THAW

STRANDED ON THE SHORE LIKE WHALES

THE PILES OF ICE

OR MOVING OUT TO SEA

MOANING AS THEY RUBBED EACH OTHER

GROANING AS THEY HIT A PIER OR BREAKWATER

BUT IT WAS THE ICE ON SHORE

THAT HELD OUR EYE

MELTING NOW IN THE SUN

SENDING BACK THEIR RICHNESS TO THE SEA

OCCASIONALLY THEIR WEIGHT WOULD BREAK THEM

OR WE WOULD WISHING WINTER AWAY

IT BECAME A GAME WE'D PLAY WISHING WINTER AWAY

BREAKING THE ICE AND CHANTING

OUT YOU GO ICE AND SNOW

A KIND OF FRENZY SEIZED US

BUT THE ICE ENDURED

IT DID NOT RUN BEFORE OUR CHANT

IN THE SPRING WE SHALL RETURN

WONDERING WHERE THE ICE HAS GONE

OR KNOWING RATHER IN THE MIND

THAT SUN AND HEAT HAVE DONE THE TRICK

BUT IN THAT DEEPER DARKER PART OF MIND

TO KNOW THAT CHILL AND COLD ARE NOT JUST WINTER THINGS

THAT TOO OFTEN THERE IS WINTER IN OUR SOUL

AWESOME SHAPES OF ICE THAT OVERWHELM US

COULD WE BUT CHANT THE SPELL AND WISH THEM GONE

BUT COME YOU NOW AND HOLD MY HAND

AND DRIVE FROM ME THE WINTER'S CHILL

I AM AN ICE CHOKED STREAM WANTING TO RUN FREE

I WANT TO BE NOT ICE FROZEN ON THE SHORE

BUT WATER RUNNING WITH THE WIND

COME NOW MY LOVE AND SET ME FREE

COULD WE BUT REMEMBER SPRINGTIME DAYS

WHEN WINTER WINDS PILE ICE UPON OUR SHORE

GIVE ME YOUR HAND

I AM COLD

AND NEED WARMTH

 

 

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NIGHT SCENE

 

 

INCOMES THE WAVES

SPILLING AND FURLING

LIKE YOUNG GIRLS KNEELING

THROWING THEIR HAIR

SEA FROTH MOVING

TO WHIMS OF THE WIND

LITTLE BIRDS

HOVERING

NEAR THE EDGE

OF THE SEA

IN A RAUCOUS VOICE

THE SEAGULL

SERENADES THE MOON

AND DARK THINGS

ROAM IN THE NIGHT

 

 

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NOSTALGIA

 

I HAVE WATCHED THE CEASELESS SURGING

OF THE SEA ON THE SHORE

THE SURGE AND THE ROLL

THE PEBBLES FLINGING ON THE SHORE

THE MYSTERY OF THE FOG I HAVE KNOWN

THE GRACE AND SYMMETRY

OF SEA GULLS FLYING

HAS MOVED ME

 

I HAVE HEARD THE HAPPY LAUGH OF CHILDREN

CATCHING THE OCEAN IN A PAIL

AND WATCHED THE TIDE COME LAPPING

IN SPOILING DREAM CASTLES BACK TO SAND

I HAVE HELPED THE FISHERMEN WITH THEIR NETS

OR ROWED ON THE LAKE

LATE AT NIGHT

TO BE ALONE

 

I HAVE SAT WITH THEM

AT NIGHT ON THE SHORE

TIRED FROM WORK

EATING SUPPER

TELLING JOKES

DRINKING BEER

I HAVE ENJOYED THEIR TELLING OF THE WEATHER

TOMORROW WOULD BE FAIR OR FOUL THEY'D SAY

THE WIND THE CLOUDS THE SEA BIRDS FLIGHT

HAVE TOLD ME SO

AND IT WOULD BE SO IT WOULD BE SO

I WONDER IF THEY WOULD BE SO EAGER TO GO

IF THEY COULD TELL THE NEXT FEW WEEKS AS EASY AS THE WEATHER

BUT... NO… NO… IT IS BETTER THEY DO NOT KNOW

 

JERUSALEM…JERUSALEM

HOW MANY MEMORIES HAS A NAME

JERUSALEM…JERUSALEM... JERUSALEM

THERE TO GO IN MY FATHER' S NAME

 

JERUSALEM…JERUSALEM

 

BORN IN A SUBURB

TO DIE THE SAME

 

 

MY COMPANIONS CALL

 

IT'S TIME TO GO

 

GOOD BUDDIES THERE

 

JAMES

 

JOHN SO INNOCENT

 

PETER STRONG

 

I WOULD TARRY

 

THEY SAY COME

 

I WOULD LINGER

 

THEY SAY GO

 

I WOULD STAY

 

BUT NOT MY WAY

 

BUT I SHALL MISS

 

AND I SHALL WANT

 

AND I SHALL LOVE

 

THE CEASELESS SURGING OF THE SEA

 

 

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