Possibility
Bill Beardslee
Diamonds dance in delight on the rippled waves
Where the old woman bends to cup the sea
Rocks hold her with gentleness
The breeze frolics in her long gray hair
As she lifts her cupped hands to the sun
Releases salty water over her smiling face.
In the distance a buoy bell tolls out warning
To steer clear of danger
To navigate the given space with caution.
A gull chants a mournful song
Of longing, perhaps love
Or maybe it staggers with broken wing
Clings to rock and sand
Alone.
The woman turns and walks the jagged ledge
Dead leaves cling to branches dancing with the sun.
Soon she is a speck among the millions rocks
Fading into her own tracks of glory.
Seaweed slips and slides with the tide
Crisp ocean air sighs
Pools of life reside where the sea recedes
Into this vast open wave
Of possibility
Where the old woman bends to cup the sea
Rocks hold her with gentleness
The breeze frolics in her long gray hair
As she lifts her cupped hands to the sun
Releases salty water over her smiling face.
In the distance a buoy bell tolls out warning
To steer clear of danger
To navigate the given space with caution.
A gull chants a mournful song
Of longing, perhaps love
Or maybe it staggers with broken wing
Clings to rock and sand
Alone.
The woman turns and walks the jagged ledge
Dead leaves cling to branches dancing with the sun.
Soon she is a speck among the millions rocks
Fading into her own tracks of glory.
Seaweed slips and slides with the tide
Crisp ocean air sighs
Pools of life reside where the sea recedes
Into this vast open wave
Of possibility