the path at the edge of the sea

on the southwestern shore

at the edge of the sea,

a path appears sometimes....

it leads not over the tawny hills

burnished with golden crackling grass

and dotted with cockle burrs….

it doesn’t wander the sandy dunes

chasing the inconstant breeze….

or seek for shade under the eaves of

crumbled greying bluffs….

it shifts and moves—

rides the tides,

lifting and falling

through translucent night....

when the planet aligns,

so that moon and fog and earth and sea

are all in agreement,

a rolling fountain of diamonds appears….

to any who come to the shore

and brave their inner silence….

free enchantment….

riches….

secrets revealed….

to those who look….

•

we stand here

all alone,

we think….

encapsulated in our skin….

our thoughts….

yet filled with

whirling energy….

electrons and protons zinging

constantly through our charged bodies….

we glow with hidden life….

we teem with what we cannot see….

like the waters….

the grasslands….

the secret standing woods….

the merest rocky outcropping

propels a thousand lives along their days….

and every moment,

a million possibilities

swirl in our direction….

•

have you once looked on

that shifting silver path?

those bright sparks

leaping, grouping,

dancing on the cold black liquid below?

have you ever

for a moment

imagined

walking out upon it….

to some undreamt-of future?

standing in the between

of earth and sea and sky….

we are as alone

as this glimmering path,

and as full of dancing sparks….

________________

©2015  Beth Anne Boardman