COMING TOGETHER

A flashback to younger days.

Feeling cold wind against my face, moving with intention, still mindful of the beauty around me, I press on.  Bare toes claw against dew moistened soil. Essence of light braking on far horizon.  Jagged silhouettes of ancient redwoods, greening blush of fields birthing before my eyes.  Inhaling distant scents, anticipation growing in belly.  Drawn on, like ancient sailor beguiled by invisible maidens.

 

Mirroring tranquil reflections of coming dawn, a pond before me, eyes bathed in splendor.  Stirring ducks majestically glide over hazy mist covered glass. Muffled honking, first sound to pierce silence of day’s creation.  My mind wanders to awakened dreams of other times.  Far off sounds play muted chorus, while strengthening aromas fill the air.  Like steel to magnet I’m carried on.

 

At last reach bend of trail, there the grand Pacific, its surface a symphony of blue hues edged in lacey white.  Pace quickens, as feet press not earth, but sand.  Sounds of distant ocean intensifying in my ears, will this be the day when gods come together as one?

 

Beach blocked from view by sandstone marvels sculpted by divine artistry. I come around the last of the obstacles, before me a churning marvel of nature’s blessings.  Never seen monsters so massive, swallowing hard like knight confronting enraged dragon.  Titan's in perfect form, and so the breath of sky.  Primeval emotion welling up inside, eroding courage.

 

Moments pass; composing myself, having caged the beast.  Looking over sea, slight chill radiating through me.   An urge deep inside, I contemplate turning back, walking away.  Something holds me. I take deep breath of salty air. Knowing I was born for this; I grab my board and paddle into the massive waves.  The gods have come together. 

Reviews

[Shelley Holt-Lowrey]

Good stuff my friend. Wow. You have put all of the pieces of skilll, emotion and thought together and this is what you've got. Why in the world were you ever tentative about calling yourself a writer? This is beautiful!

[EMF]

OK. I read poetry. For fun. Not for points or any of that stuff. But this.... This.... This is bloody wonderful. Prose, written with such awareness of the poetic language taht it's a sheer blissful joy. I became lost in the language the first time I read it. And the second. But as the story takes hold and transports you away.. Wonderful man. Simply wonderful

[Robbie~xoxo~]

Not only was this intense, it also brought me to a place of calm. You have a magnificent style of writing. I felt the sea and inhaled the salty air. What a fantasic ride my friend!

[what-the-frick]

This is absolutely riveting and the imagery is incredible! Fantastic work!

[KATHY SUE SILLS]

Love the write, great imagery so vivid that i could see it playing in my mind!

[An owl on the moon]

There is a wildness and wonder here, a depth of expression and emotion. You drive deep into the mind and heart and take us all on that journey. Extraordinary.

[roarke]

long ago, a friend of mine, a writer, said of my earlier writing, "Are you trying to write, or write prose..." I wasn't quite sure what he meant then and probably not any surer now... I often suggest to some here that they try writing a poem format into a story/prose format or vice versa. But having suggested that, the paragraphs can seem abrupt or stilted left strictly to the prose poem lines.
I still consider a story can be prose or prose can be a story, but it should consistently read like a story. In the last two paragraphs you insert yourself into the piece and take an active role. This reads like a story. The first three don't have you playing an active part in them. I don't see why you couldn't. OR put the first three in poem format and then keep the "story" format at the end.

I probably didn't explain that well. I think you might get my idea. Other than that, a beautiful expression of the dedication to the life of surfing. I almost want to cast out a long board and tempt the sharks.... Nice piece.

[Julianna Marie]

I definitely get the feel that you're a story-writer rather than self-proclaimed poet. Such vivid imagery and descriptions, really has that story-feel to it.

[David W Moore III]

The images here are wuite vivid. The love for nature is palpable. and becoming one with the gods, nirvana. It is a good day.