She gazed out
to the farthest point to sea as the sun began its slow descent towards the
horizon. She was middle in the cup
of the bay, with the craggy steep cliffs to her left and right. Her eyes closed softly and her ears
opened to the laughter below on the beach. She thought she might have heard her sons voices amidst
those of the other children playing on the beach or in the gentle methodical
waves.
She
listened intently upon the waves that almost mimicked her heart at that
moment. The pause as a wave
gathers offshore. That quiet, yet momentous moment before it spills over and
rushes to the shore. She sees in
her mind as the sea devours the sand and lashes out to bare toes, then feet,
then ankles, then calves and knows the little scream one makes because of the
chill the water brings. A smile
forms and she opens her eyes.
Her scarf flutters over her eyes shielding the view that she wants to
see of what she was thinking. She
wants to see what she hears of the children. Was she not a carefree child not more than it takes for a
wave to melt a sand castle? She
pulls back the scarf the color of indigo blue and sand. It was as light and wispy as a lazy
kite in the sky.
She inhales and the acrid smell of seaweed lying on the beach hits her
nose. The smell brings up memories
of dragging large seaweed ropes along the sand. Or the time when they all pretended it was a large
slithering snake and how her children jumped away as she ran after them with
the bulbous end that might “bite” them.
She laughs slightly to herself of those times. This is a place of joy, a place of memory making.
The sun slips down closer to the sea almost to the point where it will
be ablaze in shades of red, orange and yellow. She knows that her family will want her there with them as
the sunset begins and hits the surface then dissolves into the deep blue sea. It was voted upon to stay at the beach
till the first star twinkled in the sky.
What that really meant was till the sky was filled with stars. They would all lie on the big quilt
looking upward to count the stars and find the constellations. Times like this made magic because of
her husband. Stories would abound
as he talked. She knew he would
reach for her to cuddle close and she would listen as the boys discovered the
Milky Way.
She begins the walk down the rocky cliff trail careful not to slip. Her scarf is wild in the breeze that
blows up to the cliffs from the beach.
She wraps it once then twice and finishes it by making a soft over under
slip as though she was tying her shoelaces. She recites to herself as she sinks her toes in the cooling
sand that squishes and squashes beneath her.
i carry your heart with me (i carry it in
my heart) i am never without it (anywhere
i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing, my darling)
i fear no fate
(for you are my fate, my sweet) i want
no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)
(Poem i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)
by E. E. Cummings)
