Like Gold Dust on the sea
Or darkling voices in the rain
The pulse of a dream
Echoes its rhythmic refrain
In the morning hour.
And every wildwood,
Every scattered spirit-bloom
Whose voice was silent,
Hum with leaves in untrodden ways.
And lyrics from shadows
Who seldom shine
Unwrap the distance from sober grays
And write in pools of lucent gloom
The response to the night’s yielding strain:
An immortal dream glimmering
Like a mirrored eternity of sky
In the spirit-hollows
Of your slowly waking mind.
The same life force that birthed you
Will rise the sea
Homesickness will pilgrim and divide
Into droplets sailing
To be reborn as rain,
To nourish Heaven’s artistry
With oceans, with flowers
Carried on dreamers’ wings,
For another generation.
The fullness of life
Is like the vast ocean’s depth;
Unexplored and wistful,
Like our idea of a god turning
The hands of time and
Offering a perception of life
That we reach for,
But never fully
Have you ever looked at your own reflection
In the surface of the sea?
Then you will know the secret of life:
Your face a part of the sea,
Solid only in the shallow, close to land.
But then, as the sea deepens, it loses its shape
And expands, becoming the sea itself,
As it laughingly color the ripples
With its everlasting jigsaw presence.
I have spent mornings drinking beauty,
Walking along coastal paths
While growing wings
Spun of white surf sprinkled with the gold dust
I have learned to love the sea’s every mood,
Cast unto rugged gray cliffs
rising steeply from blue coves,
Or Caresses smothered unto white sandy dunes.
But the sea is never lonely,
It is full of whispering, beckoning, moaning
Of some great sorrow
Or great joy,
Imposed upon the land without excuse,
While solitary humans, like myself,
wander, awed and spellbound,
On the outer frame of it.
Solitude is on the shores
Of Summer twilights,
When the sun is falling
And the old keeps its tryst
With the days it loved.
You will harness your soul then
In the dimming sea,
In the whisk-away surf,
Clothing yourself in the fairy grace
Of whispering trees
And rolling waves of sunset
Into the lost lands
Not all dreams have to be big. It is okay to have small dreams, like wanting to swim in the ocean, or make your own dress, or painting a picture of the sunrise on a mountain top, or finding a conch shell to find out if you really can hear the ocean in it 😊😊😊.