Monday, December 10, 2007

Journeys over Water


We travel from our troubles toward a place of greater safety, a sanctuary if only for a day. Three times we cross the water at midday, three times we return at twilight. Six passages that echo like a spell of initiation gaining power as its mantra is repeated. Six shining swords of motion we now carry that resonate with magic each time we climb the stone hill arching above the bay.

A sparkling road across a deep blue field intersects our path, leading directly toward the sun. Before us, clouds trailing mist lighten the azure of the sky to aqua in their wake, though the illusion of their rain is dispelled long before the ground. Below, a spider web of lines anchors the fishing pier to the water.

Rafts of terns drift idly across the bay. Cormorants are stacked in a precise pecking order on the crossbars of a ranging tower. Open formations of pelicans glide just above the wave tops, their wingtips brushing the water, leaving a trail of ripples as if from a line of isolated showers. Ospreys sit sentinel atop the light poles that line the causeway like columns crowned with slowly blinking gargoyles whose heads swivel to eye us as we pass.

On the far shore, gray-bearded oaks witness our approach over an alien landscape their children will never visit while crows gossip across the sky, rumoring our arrival.

With our departure, distant clouds focus the setting sun into an orange-white blaze as they transit the horizon like distant mariners manning crystal ships that sail above the sea. Inland, a pillar of glass and steel captures the sun and is transformed into a burning beacon of divine providence or an omen of its impending wrath. The finger of flame fades as we slowly descend toward home, leaving us unscathed.

The sun now set, the turquoise mirror of the water reflects the pinks and lavender-grays of the approaching evening that marks an end to our adventures. Returning to familiar ground, we prepare to move the cycle forward into a better year ahead, the difficulty of the journey now behind us.


© 2007 Edward P. Morgan III

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