Skerwink Trail, Newfoundland
I will return where
grey flannel clouds drowse
over the sheen of ocean’s facade
where sun spills sparkles
eagle tells me secrets
where the earth rises
to kiss the mist
trees bow to the Creator
where the hush un-knots my soul
I will return
It’s Quadrille Monday. I am your host.
We are writing poems of 44 words, including the word “knot”.
dVerse Poets Pub – 3 p.m. EST
In awe I stand
Feet steadied upon
Emerald cliffs
Inhaling breath of sky
Heart-quickened, earth-smitten
Tickle of sea mist on my tongue
I surrender thoughts to the waves
Trundle with ocean’s tide
Erasing all but this moment
Time still…. (passes)
Each second a blessing
Written for De’s Quadrille prompt , “Quick! Write Something!”
It is our first morning in Newfoundland. We settled in late, the night before to an eclectic vacation rental in the small community of Southport. Population 40. We want to experience the true local life of the most eastern province of Canada. I open the door to see our surroundings in daylight, barely breathing the salty air on the bay, when I hear the sound of a four wheeler, kicking up gravel in it’s path. A middle-aged man stops in front our door. “Hello! How are you doing? Staying at Peggy and Viv’s are ya?” He shares stories of the land, the people and the fishing industry. He says he will never leave “the rock”, this magnificent island we’ve come to explore. He’s ventured out to bigger dreams and cities, but this is home. It’s different here. He’s already convinced me it’s better here. He offers a word of advice to us. “Don’t worry about crossing boundaries or walking across the neighbour’s properties. The worst thing that can happen is they’ll invite you in for tea.”
My eyes wander a bit to take in my surroundings. Colourful little buildings called “stages”. Rocky shorelines and fog in the distance. He tells us of a 90 year old woman visiting the area. She asked him to take her out on the ocean to see the sights and he willingly obliged. Then his voice becomes shaky with emotion. “She said to me, ‘Now I have seen heaven.'” He puts his hand on his heart. “I will never forget her face and those words”, he says. I get the same lump in my throat, feeling the sincerity in his eyes. The conversation brings me back to a place of genuine simplicity. This is why I am here.
fresh breeze of August
eagle basks in morning sun
feathers set aglow
It’s Haibun Monday, everyone! The theme is “morning”. Hope you can join us at dVerse Poets Pub.
I am your host and the prompt is open all week.
mishunderstood 