Harold Carr

Harold Carr

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home :: writing :: 2005-01-07-churnAndMix.html

Fri, 07 Jan 2005

churn and mix

Small ships skim the horizon. Large freighters at anchor in the harbor. Gulls land on cliffs. Wave spray blows between rocks. Docks dive under foam. Seaweed swirling in tidal motion. Whirlpools wash under further waves.

Churn and mix and never still but somehow silence comes to mind. Silence and sun heating the surface of my skin - the thin membrane making me - keeping my water and the waves distinct.

I am the ocean, sun and moon. Sky's my mind. Fish my feet. Churn and mix and never still.

Solitude the cost of these words. Words the sea gives me but can do without. There is no end, only continuing - walking in the infinite now. Each wave unique but no different from water. Shapes shifting in the unending sea.

Coming closer to sea surge between rocks at land's end I imagine the violence it offers - but somehow the seaweed is still there hanging off the rocks - dripping after each pounding wave.

Churn and mix and never still - exceeding all attempts to capture the continuing moment of life.

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Harold Carr

Harold Carr