Saturday, 29 March 2014

the sea beneath the sea

Just like the tide, held between the earth's core and the moon's gravity, I stand between my inner landscape and my outer one.  Sometimes I can't really see the difference between the two places.  At times, I live so deeply in my inner world, that I don't see how the outer one matters as much, but then I know the outer world is always my access point to my inner landscape. The outer sea, like the waves, carries a tide I can only feel when I dip my feet in its water. Once my feet are in, I feel the pull inward to some other place, possibly within me and yet also beyond me.  I like this sea beneath the sea that is so physical and also so invisible.

Everyone has to find their way to the sea beneath the sea. Some get down on one knee, some walk, some write poetry, some grow seeds, some take photographs, some read, some stop, some listen, some build. There are many ways inward and just as many ways outward, but the sea always comes in things:

in cloud shadows that fall and move quickly across a field,

in a tattered blanket that has lost its warmth,

in a found photo that holds someone else's memory,

in the surprise sighting of two large red antlered deer,

in the way shells dot the sand at low tide,


in the gentle but firm pull from gravity that always invites us



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