gone

I felt the need to walk on a beach today.
A long march that would take me beyond
the farthest point my eyes could see.
It could be a warm day—nice,
but a steel grey, cold, windy day
has it's own attraction.
The wind isolates you in your own world,
closing you off.
You become lost in it,
and a part of it.
Cold rain on your skin,
waves crashing in your chest
wind rushing from your eyes.
Leaving nothing
but you,
your thoughts
and a constant flood on your senses.

When you do return—
through spoken word,
an open door,
it is like jumping into a pool of warm water.
The world is silent
and you are removed.
A part left outside with the wind.

this search for words to define...
as if one combination,
one arrangement
of words
will be a key
or
the sword
that cuts the Gordian knot
setting me free


island
standing in a storm
I am removed from the world
waves break on my shore

(from my walk...)
grey
brushed across the sky
like dancing shadows of flame
the clouds change quickly