At A Shore Line - Poem by Bill Galvin
Standing on a granite bluff before the rolling ocean,
Watching gulls glide freely above the wave motion.
Do I still miss her; that goes without saying.
Would not the minister miss praying…
Would there be a room, if there were no floor…
Would the wave return, if there were no shore…
Would a hummingbird miss the nectar of the flower…
Would the flower even grow without a rain shower?
Troubling winds are still able to find
A way into the hidden crevices of my mind;
And though deeper love will never be known to me,
Moving forward is my best option, my only therapy;
And the way she told me that she wished it to be.
The Lighthouse is always lit, and if it’s not heeded,
Drawing back safely from deep, darkened destiny
Would be much more difficult, when needed.
And, as the tides, without the pull of the moon,
Would be nothing but a silent, uninspiring sea,
With no allure, no attraction, no personality;
Then, we can choose who we want to be;
We can live among the shipwrecked, the lonely,
Or we can move among the living,
And restore our selves absorbing all of Life’s beauty.
Of course, I still love her;
Of course, I will miss her;
And she’ll be a part of my heart in all ways.
But, we have to move on and finish our part in this play;
And I have to make the best of these days,
Even though, as she left, a part of me went with her.
Shhh… hush… shhh…
Some of Mother Nature’s sounds are roars,
But these I’m trying to hear now are soft and near.
They are those of less distant shores,
And I believe they are right next to me, right here.
Shhh… ah, yes… I smile - oh, please…
A wild sky-blue aster is brushing against my knee,
In rhythm with a freshening breeze,
That’s blowing in from the soothing sea.
8-31-2015 Bar Harbor, Maine
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