Wednesday, July 14, 2010

As Sun Approaches Water.

Some places we keep going back to. One of those places for me is Warren Dunes. It's not Hawaii. It's not the perfect beach you might find in Bora-Bora. But it is close by. I've been going up there since I was in high school. The sunsets can be spectacular, the beach is okay, and if you wait long enough into the summer the water is great for swimming.

What we like to do is go up late in the afternoon. When the heat of the day has crested and the air is beginning to cool. We throw a blanket down as everyone else is beginning to think of heading towards the exits. We a sandwich...maybe get a soft-serve ice cream the sun disappear over the horizon. Then, we head for home...and watch the lightning bugs out in the fields as we make our way east and south.

We were there this afternoon. And that time produced the following few verses.


As Sun Approaches Water.
The Sandbar.
There is a sandbar fifty yards or so offshore.
No doubt the sand has shifted, moved in or out, north or south,
But the sandbar has been there since
I can remember.
The lake bottom slopes down
Until I am barely able to touch,
But toes keep contact with sand and as water laps at my chin
I feel the sandbar beneath my feet and I am half out of water.
There are days when the bottom slopes down
Until we are barely able to touch,
But we keep moving through water that seems too deep
Until there is something sold beneath our feet and we are half out of water.
Slipping deeper into the water
I think of life,
Touching the sandbar that seems solid enough
I think of God and faith as the promise of things unseen.
Visible Love.
It seems preposterous.
Beyond belief.
Too silly.
Embarassing to admit.
I stood at the Dunes.
And kissed a girl.
A kiss whose sweetness still lingers.
And I thought our kiss was a private thing.
I was eager.
Not believing my good fortune.
That a girl so lovely
Would allow me to be so close.
Somehow I thought
That the sand and wild grass
Would shelter us from other eyes
A sanctuary within a sanctuary, if you will.
Now I look around
And realize how open and public
Our moment of tenderness and timid passion
Actually was.
Modest piles of sand and wispy
Grass did not afford us the protection
We assumed God had provided
But our reaching out to one another was too visible.
Love is something we often think
Is easily hidden from the eyes of others,
But the truth is love is visible to all
Despite our belief in the sheltering power of sand and grass.


revcat said...

Sweet. The shepherd poet. Thanks.

Anonymous said...


Anonymous said...

No garden without its weeds.............................................................