A Twilight Shore

Part 1

An ink-black sky and bright sea underneath
- a storm that never breaks -
just the rumbling, old-man voices
of wind and waves, rising and falling in argument,

and the sand, hissing cold
through the dry grass on the dunes,
where a dim glow dances
between shrunken, groaning timber.

Like shipwreck sails, the tattered dresses
of the Caretakers whip against their legs.
Bent into the wind, bent with age,
they walk the strand and scan the water’s edge:

no sea-shells, no boats, no messages
in bottles - not any more.
The only thing these waters bring,
in their phosphorescence and foam:

a traveller at her jouney’s end -
one more body
washed up
on the twilight shore.

Electric drawing by mr oCean (c) 2007

Part 2

Wake up, weary traveller.
Come warm up by the fire.
Take another spoonful now:
it’s all that you require.

Wake up, weary traveller.
You’ve further yet to go.
Where your journey takes you now
is not for us to know.

Stand up, weary traveller.
We’d love to have you stay,
but your footprints are ahead of you;
it’s time you were away.

Go now, weary traveller.
Although you may be dead,
follow where the sea-breeze blows;
you’ve one more dream ahead.

Walk on, weary traveller.
Tire not, weary traveller.
Walk on, weary traveller.
We wish that we could, too…

Text: mr oCean
Music: Lina Paul
© 2011
Illustration: mr oCean ©2007

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