We were driving at night under a close moon
along a tree-lined two-lane paved highway
that couldn’t make up its mind which direction to take
which would occasionally drop down into thicker air
and run by a thin stand of fir
where we could see through to a vast field of silver wetness
And we stopped the car
threw open four doors
left the road and sunk past our ankles in moss
scrambled over a tangled mountain of bleached logs
hit the flat sand in our prairie sneakers
and ran until our lungs ached through our sides
And still the water, the wide water widened still
the great globe of it, the perceivable curve of it
stood off and away
and my skinny body suddenly understood eternity
It was the first time I saw the ocean, I mean really saw it
and somewhere someone said
some sibyl or poet, sailor or pilot
or maybe it was you that said
there is another world
and it is this one
—you can spell the sight with three letters A…W…E if you breathe between each!
I like that! Thanks Ike.
thin stand of fur – did you mean fir?
“There is another world and it is this one.” I like that: creation and re-creation as a way of seeing. It makes me think about…
“Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more.” (Rev. 21:1 ESV)
“Then I saw a new earth (with no oceans!) and a new sky, for the present earth and sky had disappeared” (Rev. 21:1 TLB)
Unfinished thoughts…. Thanks for the vision….
Thank you for the correction Sam. And for the unfinished thoughts.
Oh, that is lovely and so right. Thank you.
Thank you M Williams!
Lovely as always, Stephen.
Thank you kind Cara.
I’ve been sitting vigil with my sister who is dying and your post opened my heart.
Oh Pat, I’m so sorry. Such a hard time. My heart is with you. Thank you for writing.
There is another world, and it is this one.. I think that is what I write to say.
Thank you Ana. And yes, I’m with you regarding this inexhaustible quest.