CAN I?

The smell of the ocean is something one never forgets.

I breathe deeply as the wind whips into my face.

The tide is part way in or out, depending on the view of the one

beholding it.

And the sound of the surf rushing in over the shore summons me to

follow it.

I walk toward the sea wall and climb the rocks.

Remembering certain stepping stones across the wall, which,

as a child, I had made my own.

I scorn the wooden walkway to the beach.

It is for those unfamiliar with what I know of this, MY, beach.

The sands are neither white nor tawny, but a silver gray in the moonlight.

When I cross the wet, loose sand, I find hard packed smooth sand beneath it.

This is the scene of my dreams,

Dreams of endless wanderings, alone, on long stretches of sand.

But, for now, I would not think of that.

I sit down in a place where the rolling & crashing surf could not reach me.

But it is only a matter of time.

I clasp my hands about my knees and beg that this moment shall

never end.

The old, nostalgic magic has laid hold of me.

I find it hard to free myself from its spell.

I know the dangers of the sea, yet it offers me a peculiar isolation.

This isolation must be guarded against, because, once felt,

That tremendous sense could be carried into ones outward life.

Always lying in wait with a false sense of security.

Safety for me lay elsewhere,

I must be free of old dreams, old longings.

I watch the waves rush past me and break on the shore.

As I perch on my favorite rock, I follow the distant light of a ship on the horizon.

I turn my head to gaze southward,

Across the dark waters in the distance lay other islands floating in their own waters.

They belong to another reality and it is up to me to be conscious of that reality,

And aware of the reality of the entire world outside of me.

It is what I experience here that is unreal and must be banished forever,

               But—CAN I ever release myself of these past longings?

                                               CAN I?