In the coral hours of late afternoon, we sit on a large driftwood log,
our feet grazing the sand, curls of cigar smoke rising
straight up in the windless air.
Looking out at the ocean, he says, “Unreal.”
Awe’s not uncommon with him: some scene settles,
then summons his sight, to see what’s otherwise unseen.
I look out over the water: one hapless sailboat, its sail furled around
the boom, and in the foreground, two bathers, and a spattering of gulls,
nearer still, a sweet-sour tangle of dry seaweed.
I’m not immune to whatever it is he’s seeing and I almost spout
some thought about Creation, which may not have been false,
only tedious—a fly in the ointment and anointment of the moment.
For wherever he looks, he sees an abundance. God,
spilling out over matter, although he wouldn’t call it God.
“How is it we don’t sense something more?” he asks, fully aware
that his life attests to the receptivity of lasting mystery.
“How can there be evil?” he asks, fully aware that evil lurks
in human hearts and flourishes in indolence.
Then, citing Christ, “Let the dead bury the dead,” says the man,
who’s never read a word of scripture. And I understand that verse
in a way I hadn’t before.
We sit quiet, talk, in that spacious, unclouded way of friendship—
the spiritual audacity and naked security of sinewy trust—
where the ear is not lonely and the eye is not starved.
Sundown, coming on, “Unreal,” he says again.
Yes, Unreal!
Thank you, Ananda.
I’m appreciating the human connection to ‘awe’ in this poem. “Unreal he says again.”
It brings up my need to pause as we did intermittently while walking in the forest yesterday.
Thank you for this opportunity to pause again amid the bombardment of the ‘news’ and busyness of the mundane.
Thank you so much, Kirk. I really appreciate your response.
“Unreal”?! . . . a “pale blue dot” as the earth appeared to Astronomer Carl Sagen’s camera from 3.7 billion miles away. Awe!
Yes! Thanks, Ike.
I love seeing the world in the half-light; it softens the imperfections. Just beautiful Stephen.
Agreed. Thank you for that Peggy.
Just beautiful!
Thank you again, Stephen.
Thank you so much, Slavka.
awe… yes
this.
<3 -^-
Thank you, Tamara!
Powerfully written.
Thank you, Kellie!