Half-way Up The Mast

Gotheborg Sail Training Ship 2015
Gotheborg Sail Training Ship 2015

The companionship of like-minded beings,
managing ropes, sails, decks, cleaning, maintaining,
eating, sleeping, learning,
contained in a vessel of awesome proportions.

Half-way up the mast, the view is changed,
the deck below much smaller than it seemed.
Half-way up the mast, sea, sky, wind,
a single mind, a new perspective.

 Photo courtesy of Richard Sibley tallshipsgallery.co.uk

Wind Of Change

In this wind,
Estuary waves crash like surfers on the sand.
What news do they bring from far-away lands

(from my notebook – May 13th)

beach notes 13th may '15

beach notes 2 & sketchI’m sitting on a rock below the Power’s place where tumbled rocks, heaped upon each other, stay the land-slip for a while. A fallen tree branch lies horizontal, fresh green sprouting to the sun.

Something stirs in my heart. I seek its message.

Be like a rock, it says. This wind brings change. Build solid foundations. Let roots settle, contained in fertile ground to flower as all things should.

Wind-swept clouds streak like feathers across the sky.

Oyster shells gleam like little silver plates. The tide rushes in.

Field Notes By The Sea

 

Listen with the sea, curling over rocks,

Field notes for MN1

oyster, laid open with razor, and clusters of pink and bone white shells.

field notes for MN2

Listen with the Gulls, see them swiftly rise and fall, hear their call of freedom over footprints.

field notes for MN3

 

Sit upon a warming rock,

field notes for MN4

 listen to the tide, fill your spirit with the  lullaby,

 the heaving sigh.

Third Anniversary

Rocks & sea 2

4th February 2015
A bright winter sun, cut through with North wind chill.
I sit with some discomfort below the wall made from  rocks and stones.
The tide is out. I feel it has taken you with it but I am here, honouring the memory of you.
Three years since that night,
listening with J & S to the gentle music and chanting of Tibetan Meditation.
We lit candles in the Gazebo at the end of the garden.
We were with you, waiting for midnight, to coincide with your leaving on the other side of the world.
When the music ended, we opened a bottle of Champagne
and laughing through tears, we shared anecdotes of your past presence in our lives,
but in a breath of wind, the cry of gulls, a whispering sea, you are always here.

A New Horizon

 

boat on gold

Hold fast to the tiller,

to Gods of wind and waves.

Through storms and dreams,

through heartbeat of wings

that arc and swoop and cry for land.

Art © 2014 TCFlynn @ Masked Native

In response to ivonprefontaine blog post, TakingThe Helm, I am making a return to WordPress with this updated post. With thanks for his word prompt Adrift and look forward to catching up with my WordPress friends again.

Cynefin

Dolphin dream

Like white-foamed waves that break on lonely beaches. Like the wind’s song where no one hears the wind. They beckon us, I know, but to no purpose –The old forgotten things of humankind.

‘Remembrance’ – From Cofio – Waldo Williams

~ ~ ~

In my dream, dolphins played in a friendly sea.

Their joy swelled my heart.

I clapped my hands,

applauding their display and immediately,

they were stilled,

their searching eyes fixed on mine.

In that fleeting moment,

that  recognition of something other than myself,

all my senses were aware of

the ‘other’ in me,

the ‘other’ in them.

~ ~~

Cynefin

A Welsh word for habitat or place. A place where a being feels it ought to live, where nature around you feels right and welcoming.

Painting -Dolphin Dream – Teri Flynn * Masked Native