I rambled the
shores of home yesterday,
the white craddling my feet as I tread the blanket parting of snowy spread. I wrote poetry in my mind... Unwritten words. Things which lay secret in my depths, Sleeping like a cat. Dormant as winter life. I penned words that will never touch paper Truths that no one would know, nor ever will. Unwritten soliloquies to the ocean; the ink still fresh and smudgable in my mind. Every breath I took of the brine Revived, and made me shiver in delight. Beloved is the mist that danced under my nose. An aroma, that of freshly-cut cucumbers. A fever of love I have for this place. Turning to go - part of me will remain dormant, until I return here to awaken it again. |
I
penned this poem shortly before I departed from my
beautiful southeast Nova Scotian home to head out west,
near the end of February 2000.
Leaving the 'nest' for the first time was about the
hardest thing I've ever had to do up to that point in
time. Things were changing so fast.
The time shortly before my move was one of reflection
and wistful rememberance of the good times I enjoyed at
home. Not surprisingly then,
the above words flowed sentimentally during my last walk
on Summerville Beach, NS - a place where I've wandered
since a child. The poem is very
special to me, since it signifies my deepest loves and
memories of home, along with the dear people who made
life beautiful. I now realize that
no matter where we may roam, whether it be just around
the corner - or across the nation - 'home' is still
where your heart is...and we can always
return. This poem is dedicated to my dearest family and
friends who gave the gift of their love; and to the
beautiful "Ocean Playround" I know and love.
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