Imagining you standing, watching the ocean,
Our bare feet pushing into the soft sand,
The setting sun warming our backs, pleasant,
A gentle breeze trifles with your wayward hair.
Waves rush in, foaming, churning, tickling,
Then pull away, sand shifting beneath us,
Losing our balance, ‘ah,’ we adjust, ‘yes,’
Seeing things differently, altered perspective.
We stroll along the strand, quite content,
Sun kissing the mountains, whilst to the east,
The impassive moon rises with stolen light,
You exclaim, ‘look, they share the same sky.’
I nod, knowingly, squeezing your fingers,
‘There’s a name for that,’ I say, ‘I forget though.’
‘They name everything these days,’ you reply,
‘But they know nothing, not really; just names.’
I sigh, happy with our friendship, so good,
Forged across the ocean, solid, dependable,
Wavelets erase our footsteps, yet we walk on,
Our past resting, but always with us: always.
You look at me and smile, tears in your eyes,
I try to brush them away, you clasp my hand,
‘No,’ you say, ‘I’m fine, please, just let them be,
The tears are part of who I am; I accept them.’
I know you are right, I understand now, I do,
You’ve shown how not to let go, how to hold,
I awaken on my side of the world, smiling,
Imagining you standing, watching the ocean.
A poem about friendship and mutual respect, written for Tonya Riddle, finally, after almost a year of trying to script a poem of 21st century connections over the ocean between two people who have never met, and maybe, never shall meet. After speaking with Tonya, the essence of how she feels about her two lost boys, is present within metaphor. Thank you, Tonya, for the inspiration and permission to publish.