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
@copyright R.E. Slater Publications
all rights reserved
