Walking over the waters

 

 

 

By the smoke-ringed rains,

 

Where a time that never really was,

 

Of butterflies

 

And bees

 

That buzz,

 

Begins,

 

A tall bird stood

 

Who came from the forest

 

Of alder trees

 

From the winding wood,

 

Alone, wandering,

 

Seeking a way of speaking,

 

Remembering the tales of an ancient day,

 

Forgetting the present,

 

Standing still in the wind,

 

Watching the fish for a moment,

 

In the sea, leaping

 

In the sunlit sea,

 

In the lights that danced,

 

Star-finned,

 

Hearing the distant call

 

Of dolphins,

 

And the laughter of otters

 

Who lived in the bay,

 

In the haunted lagoon,

 

Among the phantom ships,

 

So tall,

 

With opalescent sails.

 

But no one is there,

 

Where

 

The seas on the shore so gently fall

 

Where the melodies of the moon

 

Encircle the stones that arise

 

Where the fairies

 

Sang and spun their magic spells

 

Still the tall bird dwells

 

By the shore, wading,

 

His toes, he dips,

 

Entranced

 

By the unseen beings all around,

 

Watching and waiting

 

Waiting and watching,

 

And listening

 

To the sound

 

Of the worlds of the sea,

 

In the mist of many lilies,

 

In the trails,

 

In the trains

 

Of mist,

 

Walking over the wide waters,

 

Listening

 

For the bells

 

To chime,

 

The bells that are certain to ring,

 

The bells in the echoes, beyond all time.

 

© Sharon St Joan, 2019

 

Photo credit: ID 121845856 Tahir Abbas / dreamstime.com