I rambled the shores of home yesterday,
the white craddling my feet as I tread
the blanket parting of snowy spread.
I wrote poetry in my mind...
Things which lay secret in my depths,
Sleeping like a cat.
Dormant as winter life.
I penned words that will never touch paper
Truths that no one would know, nor ever will.
Unwritten soliloquies to the ocean;
the ink still fresh and smudgable in my mind.
Every breath I took of the brine
Revived, and made me shiver in delight.
Beloved is the mist that
danced under my nose.
An aroma, that of freshly-cut cucumbers.
A fever of love I have for this place.
Turning to go -
part of me will remain dormant,
until I return here
to awaken it again.
penned this poem shortly before I departed from my
beautiful southeast Nova Scotian home to head out west,
near the end of February 2000.
Leaving the 'nest' for the first time was about the hardest thing I've ever had to do up to that point in time. Things were changing so fast.
The time shortly before my move was one of reflection and wistful rememberance of the good times I enjoyed at home. Not surprisingly then,
the above words flowed sentimentally during my last walk on Summerville Beach, NS - a place where I've wandered since a child. The poem is very
special to me, since it signifies my deepest loves and memories of home, along with the dear people who made life beautiful. I now realize that
no matter where we may roam, whether it be just around the corner - or across the nation - 'home' is still where your heart is...and we can always
return. This poem is dedicated to my dearest family and friends who gave the gift of their love; and to the beautiful "Ocean Playround" I know and love.
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