LINGER IN THE COLD
OF A FADING SUN
The modern cities are immature and crave our attention, but the ancient seas have earned their status of worship. We make the pilgrimage to stand, kneel and prostrate ourselves before the sea. Experiencing the spiritual properties of healing, whether through the salty touch of the water, or circulated by the sea air bellowing into the chambers of our lungs. Together in these intergenerational congregations that celebrate the sea from the surrounding land.
found amongst the vastness of the blues
matching breaths to the beat of the tides
my body is cleansed upon the dirty shoreline
between nostalgia and anemoia
i have put but a foot in the water
an older human meets the ancient sea
wisdom to be young again
where swimming
was all about widths instead of lengths
as if being an adult meant
deep end for everything
different to that of our peer group in comparison
paddling around in their arm bands
Prescribe the sea air, as an opportunity to escape the pollution and stresses of a crowded city. Listen to the sound of the waves, the feel of the sand and be reinvigorated by the cold water's embrace.
Go to be alone in the quietness of the off-season.
Linger in the cold of a fading sun to watch it go down.
Become creatures of habit
and return to old favourites.
The calm night sea is a silent companion of the walk.
The ageing life-cycle
seen in these intergenerational gatherings.
An excuse to exercise.
To throw thoughts out to the sea