R.E. Slater - Sea Change (a poem)

Sea Change

by R.E. Slater

It was there. Seen almost immediately in the

greying disappointment pooling in her eyes -

shading a sullen face wrenched in faraway muse.

Seen in the profound sadness wasting away,

leaving me feeling lost and alone. Refusing

chaste solace when dully looking away, guardedly

watching the cold, heavy tides break - entwining

castaway lovers until dawn’s early lights.

A familiar feeling sounding lost souls, plunged

love’s deepest fathoms cast its hastening bights.

Constant as the endless tide’s fey running seas -

ebbing and flowing enchanted shoreline lees.

Adrift true loves that never truly abides -

eternally searching forlorn worlds fled a’flight.

Pierced Venus’ oft scouring shoals, chastened

bright coral’d reefs of valiant dreams dispelled.

Drowned in dark melancholy’s deepest waters -

(whose old despairs I fought vainly to avoid).

Overwhelmed in the lostness of my kindred soul

alive the brimming haunts of betrayal’s sad eyes.

Bravely resisting time’s cruel, crooked hand -

numbed a greying sea’s massing rolling pitch.

Casting long and low against its swelling pride -

washing in-and-out, tide-upon-tide, too gladly

exhausted upon a sandy surf’s glistening foams.

Abroad, it was, that I found myself discovered

(almost immediately as I discovering looked).

Transfixed a nethering shoal’s nearest redoubts,

cradling fey promising songs of virginal rebirth.

Like quicksilver’d flashes lit a ruddy dawn’s rays,

whispering demurely ’neath morning’s low hums.

Flashing on lifted waves thrusting ashore, met

a lifting fog’s muted, misty skirt, casting astern.

A’ sudden plunged love o’er the face of the deep,

slipping, sliding, unbroken its vast running tides.

Cast a turbulent ocean’s moaning deep loss -

awash blissful songs sung amid carefree daze.

Making me know no other place so safe -

cradled within my castaway lover’s moiling gaze.

Bearing me up even as I was birthed, across

undying storms bursting Atlantic’s grey bows.

Once a’ locked hoary time’s toiling, carnal seaways -

(bestirr’d sirens’ healing songs of blackest depths).

Offering wanton treasures flung flotsam’d regrets

lest thrust upon carrying seas I wouldst forever sail.

Where no wind nor trouble could rightly prevail -

so deep, and great, this thrice-bound love brought.

Newborn into the shadows of my riparian haunts -

bending southwards bound upon steady rhythm

safely haven’d within heaven’s flaming descents.

- R.E. Slater

Oct 22, 2012

rev. Oct 25, Nov 5-6, 19, 2012; Jan 8, 2013

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