The Heart Adrift

Being perched high overlooking the sea enables a perspective awe inspiring as the stillness and dynamic motion of her waves rush to meet the shore.

My knees tremble as I walk observing fluctuations along her boundary.

I wonder if life here might straighten the spine seeding courage to plant my feet and imprint the caricaturist these legs have come to know.

There is no veil to shield as the facade of the widow envelopes me.

My children see life, as do I, in the glowing radiance of the sun reflecting the waters of time, tasting the salty air as we gravitate with a magnetic affinity to her shore.

In sunlight lies the spark to ignite memory of the father loved dear.

He who cradled us wrestling temperments of life's storm and carrying us when our knees grew weak.

Now he no longer guides our ship and we are forced to sail on a cold sea of fury.

Though thunder clouds roar high above the sea, its tide pulling us beyond safety of life's shore as lightning strikes a temporary light to taunt us, we've learned to cast the anchor and tie down the mast.

Alone we drift wishing our Captain was here once again, but we know it will be God himself who will blow the breeze that shall carry us safely to shore.

As the children grow strong here, I dream and write about the truths which around us lie. I smile sharing comfort the sea generates to those who come.

FOR SHE IS THAT VAST BODY OF WATER RESPONDING AT TIMEs UNMERCIFULLY, RECORDING ETERNITY WITH INCRUSTATIONS ON ROCK, SIFTING, SHIFTING AND SHAPING EACH GRAIN OF SAND AS RHYTHMIC BEATS OF HER WAVES CRASH UPON THE SHORE.

- Blanche McLanahan