In this morning mist and cold,
wet sand twixt my toes and me
and gritty ‘neath my knobby knees
I remember beginnings
of this moment long ago
and culminating in this now.

I woke then, to find my heart
had been torn open, then ripped from
my heaving chest in one harsh yank
and there were towels and pads all round
me there beneath those storm cloud words
still ringing

“Clean yourself up and go outside and play!”Those long years ago I learned
to cry silent and hide my tears…
on the insides of my cheeks
where they would run back down to pool
inside that empty place my heart
used to be.  It used to be.

I wandered and I found places
that I could pour me out…I don’t know
what hurt more:  the emptiness
just pouring out or all those tears…
running down and drowning me.

So I lay me amidst the flowers
in lush grass meadows green and there
learned to abide, endure, persist…
and yearn.  Oh how I learned to yearn.
But that was then, and here, now…these
long years later and miles travelled
down time’s trail…I stirred myself up
from underneath my soft blankets
and threw on my big boots and coat.

But I left my cane behind…
limps are irrelevant when we
are down on our knees,  Yes?  They are.
I walked the old beach access road
but my achy and empty core
walked contrary, backwards in time
to take on shape, substance and form,
becoming in the memories
the who I should have been back then
instead of this hollow and shipwrecked

me here, kneeling in this moment…
and I dreamed of what never was,
and sang of all that should have been.
Then I arrived at ocean’s edge
and just in time…because the wedge
of memory, the urge to jump
had become great.  And so I stood
and let my tears run down the outside
of my cheeks while waiting for
the sun to walk its path to stand

on the far edge of the horizon

and then to jump into the sky
and make its run once more across the void,
once more across the void.
The sun, the sand, the sea

…and me…

stood there where they met.

My eyes roved o’er the curved and graceful
backs of waves swimming in droves
while songs abound until they found
that old wreck stubborn run aground
on rocks, foolhardy in its heedless
balderdashy thrust against
the foghorn blast and lighthouse beacon.Still there, rusty, sodden, and yet
not much worse for wear…not much.

Its familiar hollow hull
echoed my own empty hollow
chest…my locked up knees began
to tire, then give way at last…and

that is how I got here,
in the sand,
on my knees…
and waiting.and in that place my heart should burn
inside at last I felt the rising
of a voice or was it something else?

the rising of a tide?
A fountain? No, a mountain? Mmm…
A spring

welling up in supplication
all my yearns found wing and from
my lips they flew into the heavens,
beyond that marching willful sun 

to land at last safe
there in Mama’s lap.

And now…now.
Kneeled here…I listen.

I listen for the Word come down
to take up residence within
my empty chest, to become…yes
a presence Present, to have become
substantial substance and I think
maybe I can become a host

to the Host.

Regardless…kneeled here,
I cast it all away to Her
and let myself diminish, grow less

and become more.
And I am grateful for Her answer
in the graceful break of waves
and the ever rushing sound
of Her forever Kiss