Calling Me Home – a Poem

I remember
the golden sand,
stretching out from
the river, and the
cliffs, like an arrow head.
The waves
crashing down upon the shore
like galloping white horses.

I remember the river
breaking its banks;
its overflow
reaching out,
wanting to escape
through the mouth,
and home to the ocean.

I remember facing south.
The horizon,
merging
with the blue water, and
welcoming the
spirits of the land.

I remember facing north, and
welcoming the Gods.
Feeling connected in that
one moment
to the land – the
grains of sand between my toes;
to the sea –
crashing against my calves;
and the sky –
its changing hues as the sun sets.

I remember the joy, and
the love, that
coursed through my veins
when the salty air
brushed against my cheek; and
through my hair,
always from the east.

I remember the setting sun,
it’s fading light
disappearing behind the
strength of the cliffs to the west.
Shadows cast upon the sand,
stretching,
awakening from slumber.

I remember my home land, and
I weep over the
memories
of a land so far away,
yet connected to where I stand.
A place where I wish I could be
dancing
with the wild horses again.

A land I can see when
I close my eyes,
taking me to the river,
walking through its mouth, and
emerging
reborn into the waves.
The stillness of the river –
calming, centering,
focusing my thoughts.

I can hear the seagull call,
feel the warmth of the sun, and
hear, the voices within the waves
welcoming me home,
begging to never part.

I sit here, on this six a.m. train,
some twelve hundred kilometres away, and
draw strength from my
home land.
I welcome the
blessed memories, and
remind myself that
a part of me will
forever
be standing
upon the shores of Anglesea,
calling the in the Gods,
dancing in the waves.

by Cara Fenton, 06/03/2012