Sister

[Berwick Bay]

This is not a tropical poem. Its my first non-tropical poem.

Sister

Washed ashore after many years,
Having been tossed to and fro
By currents moving in and through me.
Resting now as the tide rises
And then falls. A fire is built and
And waiting for me on the beach,
Warmth and bread.
The breakers pound the shore
Thunderously heaving that sea,
As if inhaling and exhaling.

Gazing into the fire, surrounded by the sounds
Of the Ocean, the breeze cool and dry,
And echoes from myself, I eat quietly.
Smoke through my hair and nostrils
Cleansing and freeing.
Within the fire, images and reflections
Rise, and then drift away
Into the night.
A voice now,
“Thou art my beloved son,
In thee, I am well pleased”.

I begin to walk, driven by that spirit
Within the fire.
Along the beach lovers
In the dark, almost buried in the sand.
Bright lights further down,
Faraway sounds of laughter and youth.
Dark laughter, pain released easily by
The young, like those images and reflections
In the fire.

An older sister, she has waited for me.
Gentle touching, and so much joy.
She kisses me on the cheek.
There are many words now
And we smile,
Knowing.
Tears come with the currents,
And I am glad.
No dark laughter here,
Only wisdom
Born from the fire.
I was foolish
And ignorant.
Believing in images and reflections
Now burning in the fire.
Sister, hold me and guide me,
Encourage me.
Be with me now.
Let me always look into
Your face.
Tell me who I am.

[Coredesat]

So it's an extratropical poem?

That aside, very well-written.