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River Pilgrim


River Pilgrim

When feelings of loss take hold, I make
a pilgrimage to the bottom of the hill,
          seeking my river temple.

Empty shoreline awaits. There’s comfort
in a silent wind that strokes my face;
          a maternal embrace.

Low tides betray the old jarrah convict fence; history 
reemerges if only to sun drenched cormorant feathers.
          A breath from a large day.

I see myself in shy pelicans, quietly propelled
by curious notions; wild momentum bubbling below. 
My eyes caress

the inlet’s contours; lofty Osprey’s nest awaits its tenant’s
return from aerial duty. Closer, ghostly jellyfish skirts billow;
          meditations of hello.

Pangs echo in the invisible of my being; underscoring my tiny
treasured place amongst an eternity of beings. Truly we roam.
          In nature, I always have a home.

Tell me your story and I’ll help tell it to the world

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