Monday, March 29, 2010

A bit of prose I neglected to upload:

At Sea

I found my place today
A tiny postage stamp of teak
Under the lifeboats, beside the salt spray
A miniscule nook of a place
Away from the throbbing music
And the throbbing pulse of youth
My solitude in itself an irony~
As only steel and glass, and a corner turned
And I’d moved from that chaos people choose
To the intimacy of the sea
The cool side of the ship, the blue water slipping darkly past
Rhythm of waves broken by the stern
Boiling white in cobalt blue
What an odd place,
Looking up at the hulking mass of lifeboat
Orange prisoner in Sisyphean chains
Cursed to remain, cursed if used.
And we’re headed south, just off Mexican shores
Bookended by horizon to horizon with no land in sight
The east side of the boat is cool
And the west side of the boat hot
Warmer side still dark, yet mixed from a palate to a lighter shade
Tumbling crests the trillions of Poseidon’s jewels
Facets changing to uncut stone and back again
Such a magician’s act!
I could stare at the sea in its many faces
And see the face of my lover, see the scope of her time
See her in the storms and the calm,
Her hair the great waving expanse
Her breath the brine of life
As if she were blushing Venus, newly stepped from the shell.
No, my life is not found in the gathering events of masses
Mine is found under the lifeboats, beside the salt spray
A tiny nook of a place
Away from the throbbing music of youth
A steel and glass column turned,
And moving from the chaos people choose
To the savage beauty of the open sea
Down sleek white ship sides into the blue,
Knifing through the dark
Boiling white meeting cresting cobalt blue


Fish and Man

I fed fish today
No, not the exact sort of activity you may suppose
A pinch of flake food poised above a glassy sided tank—
No, I was among them, in their watery element
An air breather thus positioned by contrivance
A mask, plastic fins, and a snorkel
But the fish didn’t seem to mind
They happily joined me to dine on scraps of sandwich and cereal
Taking in and accepting; my black shirt and plaid shorts
All too like their own coloring
Sleek dark bodies and bright yellow caudal fins
They torpedoed in from the dark, fire in their quizzical eyes
The eyes compelled me, spoke to me
Those orbs were filled with life; were not the eyes that a fisherman sees on shore
The eyes of a dying thing
These held the spark of noumen in their element
And I felt privy to something God already knows
That all beings are intelligent~
They were quick to come to my little feast, and slow to leave, ghosting along
Hesitant to leave, like the puppy that refuses to stop playing
After this stranger strokes it.
These all were my pets today while I fed them
And I was the one behind the glass this time
The alien in their world
They were kind enough not to tap on my mask
Happy to oblige me in my feast
This alien visitor in their watery world
Supplanted son of the same Creator
Sharing a snack in their world.



Transplanted today
From wave and gull and sea
To the desert
Greasewood, barrel cactus and Joshua tree
Makes me want to bless this land
Land of many places
Land of people with pride of place
Straight highways
Dust brown desert mountains black with shadows
‘tis home that we are headed for
no strange land where strange tongue rolls
but home, home, spoken by familiar tongues
the voices of my children
Hyrum, Madolin, Miles, Graham
A place fixed; nothing moving, polar as the north star
Our ultimate destination
Transplanted no more
At home in our Deseret
With the leaves of my progeny all around me


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