The Edge of a Continent

 

 

 

The edge of a continent is a lonely place

when we are called to await what the great Sea

                                                                  prepares,

returning to its rhythm, breakers to lull

the mind's high wires, jangling out of tune

after generations have foundered, gone under.

 

O to listen to the great Sea long and long,

the Sea silences; one has forsaken the crowd's

                                                                clamoring,

accepting a kind of death, a death within life,

but not what we once would have thought—

O secret pearl of the Sea!  O new life!

 

Uncanny how the great Sea begins a rapport,

when years you stand before it like a rock,

firm before siren calm and tattering storm,

you begin to understand the divine speech

                                                         articulated,

vowels that beat to the ancient metronome.

 

In lonely hours the great Sea nods assent;

acceptance is granted when Divinity has chosen

to speak precisely here, to you, your new life

                                                                        awaited

and now revealed, a new music heard at the edge

of a jagged cliff, at the edge of a continent.

 

 

 

 

 

1987