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Poem 106: Beach walk Bruce Goodman © 31 December 2021 |
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I battle long and empty beach. I fight against the wind. White manes of horses crash to shore in wild spray. My thoughts are tangled all adrift and drown in angry waves. I cannot hear for noise of waves the calls of birds on beach. They fight to fly, are cast adrift as victims of the wind. Their wings are torn like salted spray as on the dunes they crash. I long for calm as waters crash; I’ll quiet the seething waves. The sanded, salted, pitting spray face-stings my walk on beach. Christ calmed a storm, Christ calmed the wind; Why set my mind adrift? A fisher’s boat was tossed adrift and pummelled in a crash. Yet none about, no voice in wind, no drownings in the waves. Just one abandoned boat on beach left to sand and spray. The storm intensifies its spray, the boat is freed adrift, the sand blows mad along the beach, the skies unleash its crash. Waves no longer follow waves but roil in the wind. At last a blue patch in the wind; less biting of the spray; a quietening of deafening waves. My mind unbound adrift. My thoughts are stilled, though whitecaps crash, and peace returns to beach. My thoughts the wind released adrift. Thoughts spray as ordered breakers crash. Peace now waves goodbye to storm on empty beach. |