This – this is the place
we would walk for miles
from deserted beach to
We were human sundials
forerunners to any crowds
We were clear
of all the others
in the love of
ourselves, each other, the world that
contained us – reaching to the blue arc of horizon –
wrapped in warmth and a gentle breeze
wrapped in light.
Somehow you knew this time was ours,
yours and mine.
I’m not sure my mind rested so
but it rode on the coattails
of your vigour
your rose-coloured glasses – and mine.
We breathed in the blueness
'til it drove us back to the bedroom
back to our bodies
back to basics.
Now the horizon is all mine.
For a while there, I didn’t know what to do with it – it looked so empty and flat, for a time.
But here, back where we started, the world
swallows me whole
warms me, caresses me
feeds and nurtures me
with quite a sight to behold
– to the ends of the ocean,
the tips of the earth.
It watches through an eagle eye,
this lone ranger just trying to fit in
among nostalgia that comes in waves,
carried on currents, upon
the breeze, all through such days.
This is still my time – yours is no longer part of mine.
But you are here – a spirit – drifting
gently between the she-oaks who
sway so slightly, so constantly,
as they did in the beginning, the
middle, and the end of what was.
Here, now, I am not turned on,
not high as a Kite, but I stay with
my feeling of something missing, until
this time transforms the world
with its alchemy. And, hey presto –
there’s nothing missing at all.
© 2009 Justine Reilly