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Certain poems I return again and again to tap into a state of mind that I was experiencing while writing them–often a deep sense of harmony and exhilaration. As if I was a still leaf being carried away by a swiftly moving stream.
The following is such a poem. It was written when we were sailing through the South Pacific and visited Ile des Pins (Isle of Pines) in New Caledonia, a group of islands just south of Sydney, Australia.
The island is well-known for its beauty—glassy, turquoise waves spilling onto sand as white as sugar and fine as flour. Walking ashore was like wading through drifts of powdery snow—each step leaving deep footprints.
The island is covered with tall, narrow native pines.
While walking through these trees, I became mesmerized by the beauty of the island. The sound of wind blowing through the branches, the sun slanting through the leaves, the fragrance of the pine-scented air, the greenness that enveloped me–it all flowed together and seemed to take me to a place beyond myself. Later, remembering how I felt and wanting to capture that, I wrote this poem.
Ile des Pins
There is a path
green and thin
that wends away
and wheels me in
Rising, falling,
tree by tree,
lanced by light
through sward and leaf
Breathing pines
that breathe in me
like heady wine
flowing, free
Green above
and green below
no in, no out,
no high no low
Winds are water
everywhere
I walk on water,
float on air
Drifting mindless
round the bend
bursting out
bursting in.
The hypnotic rhythm and rhyme help to capture that sense of being swept away, unable to resist. A deep underlying harmony carries me to a point beyond rational explanation, where the boundaries between self and non-self, this and that, disappear, and something extraordinary just beyond my grasp opens up before me.
Reciting this poem to myself I re-experience that sense of peace and joy and power. And whatever had troubled me before begins to fall away.
What moves you beyond yourself? What resources do you tap into to find a sense of tranquility or renewal?
The most lyrical writers of prose are first poets. Lovely and evocative, Deborah.
Sailing or merely being on the water refreshes, like sunset, sunrises, the beauty around that is our gift from God. When the water and the place are as lovely as those above, how can one not wax poetic?
Thank you Normandie. I feel so blessed to have visited so many beautiful places in the world.
Gorgeous photos and beautiful poem! Thanks for sharing!
Thank you so much!
The Sea for sure, in whatever mood she presents herself, always inspirational.
Yes, for me too.
What moves me beyond myself? A question worth some thoughtful consideration. I have to come back to you on that one.. As for that latter question, I find my peace in music and more often than not, in a good book, but everyday, I don my Asics and urban walk for a few miles. In that time I conquer anything nipping at my psyche,
Ummm, yes. A good book, walking, music–works for me too.