My Sanctuary

The silent alarm of sunrise

encourages my eyes to open

like an animal at dawn

blinking towards the rising orb

the sky fills with amber light

hazy blue mountains stacked upon each other

standing guard, keeping the peace

 evergreens and silver water

waves gently pushing the wandering pieces of other places

forming a line along granite rocks rounded by the same tides

this ocean rhythm has kept time

since I was carried in my mother’s womb

a summer migration that began in utero

a place where wild can be tasted

the smell of forest thick

we gathered huckleberries and oysters with delight

marveled at the bounty of island forage


before our hands gently feasted

with gratitude

until we stared with disbelief

dodged logging trucks on narrow roads

a slow destruction

clear cuts edging the landscape

we shook our heads

looked beyond this unwanted change

hope buried deep inside our hearts

I still like to think

that time stands still here

I sit at the table with the octagonal window I remember so well

each mouthful I savor, my grandmother’s cooking

colors of garden, sea and forest fill my plate

and I offer stories in an unequal exchange for true soul food

my travels and adventures to distant lands

so far away

I can hear the change of my own voice

the tick of a clock on wooden walls that used to reach so high

now I stand tip-toe to help clear cobwebs from high corners of a house

whose floors I once crawled upon

carry kindling from the beach I once swam from its shores

with childish laughter under full moon skies

and searched for words to explain

my existence

my purpose

so now here on this island


I find that I need few words to explain

the beauty of life is a lesson

of learning to digest the joys

each day may bring if you care to notice

care to listen

the loons are calling

the water a mirror

in Hyacinth Bay

beckoning my canoe


come travel back in time

The silver water beckons my canoe. I am easily convinced.

The silver water beckons my canoe. I am easily convinced.

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