Lake Superior Poem by Ryszarda Pelc

Lake Superior- enormous, huge.
Runs to the horizon.
Overflows.
Rumbles like drumbeat of gigantic drums.
Superior
I am listening to the roar of waves, whistle of the wind.
I walk through overthrown trunks of dead branches on the shore.
A nostalgia moons with me among the white birch trees.

A roar of waves brings memory of those moments,
which I’m carrying with me trough life and across the borders.
Memories about the Pearl of Adriatic
Ravenna,
where Theodora and Justinian dreamed of glory
are expressed it in colorful mosaics, the masterpiece of eternal art.

I recall the busy Boulevard in Nice
Facing the blue sea under the clear sky of the South.
I save in my memory the beauty of majestic Pacific Ocean
misty, mysterious, fascinating. Not peaceful at all.

The pictures of those places are alive in my memory.
But
my heart belongs to the Baltic,
The sea of my mother land,
Where I first learned how to love the seas.

October 17,1989