A Letter to My Friends [Part 2] (Or "The Sea, The Wilderness and the Harbor")
Updated: Jan 27, 2020
[part 2]
But plank and paddle found me,
While I drifted towards the beach of a great wilderness.
Upon landing parched
And burnt, bearded and boney
I stumbled in search of a harbor. But found nothing of
the sort,
For this was not a seafaring land. Though a few small
Docks dotted its lovely coast.
So instead of sailing,
Riding that great wind into destiny,
I fashioned an axe
And forged my way into the Great Wood
One feeble hack at a time.
Until I found a clearing.
Some several miles in,
Where I might not even
Remember the sea.
I would have no joyous report
To send home to you
So I sent no letter
And I sent no call.
But there I met a lovely gal,
And we settled down,
In our little life
And learned to be content
And found the wisdom in stability.
For we had now had more souls to feed.
We laughed and loved
And fought and grew bored together
In the midst of the Great Wilderness.
And though she hinted and even begged
For me to take her to the sea,
I did not,
Because I knew what the sea had in store.
And besides, I was content
So I said.
But then one day,
She confessed.
That she too was from the sea.
But had only known it in her dreams.
And asked if I would take her to see the sea.
And I agreed.
Reticently.
We were older then
And so were you
And busy with children
And the happenings that
Happen in life.
And so I didn’t send letters
Or call. For I had forgotten
the sea and the harbor
on the other side of the sea.
Except when I would dream,
Or hear the sound of the ocean in the top
of the pines
On a cold winter’s morning.
Or on those rare, quiet days when
children go to play
In another village.
Or those glimpses we get while chopping
wood
Or singing songs
Or walking along the river.
Part One of this poem can be found here. Part Three of this poem can be found here. This poem in its entirety cab be found in Where the Wind Comes From: Poems by Mark T. Whitten