The Rescue and The Message

Mother and child and beach


I rush to the rescue blindly careening out
towards to the coast seeking searching
for the search party to help to show my love
she has disappeared on a vision quest
carrying nothing without hope no return
not looking for answers perhaps she found
but only completing her walkabout
from the back of an ambulance
too close to the end for reasons rationale
too unsettled about my own fate not to relate

I continue on to land’s end and the ocean
with many questions of my own unrequited
to the beach, my love, who always answers
Getting to my beach another part of my heart
is not without risk as with all oracles
She has teetered on the brink - I seek her fate

Sand caresses my feet    waves enter my heart
but at first there is no reading no meaning no reply
clear the heart wash the soul free cease to be
how can I ask about her when it’s still about me
Stop       gaze the waves     become the other
clear my mind empty     and meditate the answer

The seagull appears perched on wave washed rock
In totem judgement of my compassion intent
on this barren beach     today empty devoid
unpromising out-of-season for beach combing
A pretty shell worth keeping appeals to me grasping
yet still alive inside passive pleading grasping for life
I toss it back into the sea for another chance

The lock the key the message comes to me with a rush
cascading upon my consciousness like endless waves
There are no big answers to this angst to live
no obvious solution to our difficult situations
so what can I tell her to give her hope
how can I touch her heart gently lightly?

the oracle is a lovely flake of abalone
as delicate as an eggshell     tiny     vulnerable
of course it is her       having survived the surf
reduced become minimal but still enduring
As I move to pick it up       another washes by
then I notice another and another
As I look smaller the more beauty I find
A wave thunders and threatens me
drives me back to find another small gem
then dissipating, delicately deposits another
all of this only comes when I think her name
and recedes as I do not         How very strange!
Accept the oracle be patient for the unfolding
and see how many answers there are today?

There is an onslaught of meaning this day
and each small beauty a supplication prayer
Again and again beauty pleads for her life
I try to escape this - it will not let me
brings me back to find another and another
each tiny fragment a paean of my beach’s love
a siren song a plea to keep her alive
My heart fills with ungrasping potlatch joy
nature amends her near tragic message

With the gull’s return     the totem     ends the message
how few minutes on a barren beach of life
where there was nothing before       nothing after
103 lovely vibrant pleas to look deeper     accept more
we all have flawed       thwarted lives
so fraught with strange potential and meaning
that we must give every chance to express


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William Bruneau, Publisher
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