A belated heading off down the coast ahead this morning. Friday's Easter traffic held no allure and the swell, though up, was affected by on-shores, plus I couldn't be stuffed.
So today, me and the two boys (excuse the grammar, but it is the case as I'm practically dragging Tom) are heading down without Mum (she wants us out of her hair) to the Deeper South, hopefully some waves, with the odd stop at skateparks (to pacify Tom). I'm struggling to reconnect him to the water, his love of concrete pretty intense at the moment.
I'd been thinking about what it is we love about our passions, and somehow, in the middle of the night, 'affectionate water' appeared in my head.
I tried to keep it there for the morning and the, oh god not another one, Poem Idea popped up.
So here folks, is my instinctive, flawed stab at....
Long horizon, distantly spread
before slow lifting lines
that lope towards me. A thread
leading long, strong and fine
To a foreign storm, cracking
Silently, lives away.
This salted wall, it’s gift, stacking
high as a breeze lifts
Lace from its face. I rise
to glide down the wind dappled
skin of The Wave, my eyes
searching for that curve graced
to send me on that slow
swift flight of joy and wanting,
lifting me to greet the throw
of the wave’s arc sculpting
this finest of curves, it’s caress
along chest arm and finger
the loving, threatening touch
of my blessed, affectionate, water.
The frame grab, though I've shown it before, is Heath Joske on an alaia from Musica Surfica.
It is appropriate as it will feature in the next trailer of the film, coming very soon, and is pretty much my favourite image from the film.