Tuesday, February 28, 2006

When you leave Galveston headed south
the Gulf transforms beneath you.
Dark water takes on light,
drinks the sapphire sky
and as you pass The Abacos
you glimpse the glittered seabed
powder-white and pure,
sprinkled with fishes and anemones.
At Hope Town the lighthouse
waves you on with spokes of golden firelight
and sends you safely southward
to warmer waters still.
At night, the perfect dome above
is a black sea unto itself,
speckled with islands of sparkling light,
scattered like skipping stones.
Beneath your feet, below the teak,
the ancient waters pull and flow
with magic and strength
far beyond the influence of any man’s hand.
Shut your eyes and time falls away
in the caress of salt wind
and the descant of the deep.
There is no dearer harbor,
no more treasured cove.
This sweet sea, bearer of dreams,
claims the hearts of some.
Consider yourself blessed
if you are one.

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