Ocean rhythms

Well, I haven't posted in a while. I'm working on a poem that just doesn't quite seem finished called Heartsong. Perhaps I'm still learning to let my heart truly sing, not sure. I do know that the poetry comes much more slowly now. I'm thinking that's because I am incorporating all that has come over the past few years into my life. I feel the need to be more patient, and that actually feels good.

A few weeks ago I had an amazing week taking a Nature Journaling course for teachers on Burnt Island. It was just so wonderful to be on that little island soaking in the environment and the learning. I did learn to draw a bit as we did many wonderful science based activities. But of course, the need to write was there, too!

The first day we were on the island it was very foggy. When Elaine Jones (instructor AND boat captain...:) picked us up at the dock we really couldn't see much at all. The island isn't very far off Boothbay Harbor, but we could have been in the middle of the ocean for all we could see. The horn of the lighthouse was sounding, due to the dense fog, every 10 seconds. Some people were bothered by that, but I really liked the rhythm of it in the background and could somehow put it where I needed it to be.Later in the afternoon the fog lifted and it was like a present slowly being unwrapped as we took in the vistas from our island perch.

I will most likely write more about the experience later, but I wanted to post this poem that I wrote on the first day there. It was written as the fog was lifting, but the horn was still blowing.
I like how so many of my other pieces wove their way into this one - it's about what I was experiencing in the moment, but about so very much more at the same time...:)

Ocean Rhythms

Soft swells sweep toward the rocky shore.
Bulbous seaweed sways back and forth
on the surface of the salty liquid,
accompanied by the luscious sound of water
lapping onto land.
Sailboat saunters by with mainsail and jib
working in tandem to move the vessel
quietly into port.
Multiple engines throb in the distance –
lobster boats hard at work maneuvering
from trap to trap checking for crustaceans to sell.
All the while the steady pulse of the
Burnt Island Lighthouse
announces solid presence.

Sarah Carlson
Aug. 1, 2011
Written while sitting on a rock
by the Burnt Island boathouse
First day of Nature Journaling class