Saturday, August 9, 2014

Harbour-watching

Looking out,
I'm trapped in a postcard
A view of perfection
Every day a testament
To this island oasis,
Its effortless beauty spilling over
Irrepressible

Yet from inside the frame I cannot
Grasp it, make real contact
With its features
When my mind is stalled
On the memory of your smile
The grace of your limbs
The stars that I saw
Reflected in your eyes

Alone, the world falls flat
Even when it's at my feet
For the taking
It lacks colour, texture,
Even the salt of the ocean breeze
Tastes bitter on my tongue

What ungrateful agony it is
Being unable to unwrap
The gift of each day
When my spirit is halved,
Unrequited

While distant ships stretch brilliant
White sails, gliding as if a dream
Over turquoise glass
My own ship is sunk, wrecked
In the harbour rotting with
The barnacles and urchins
After years of adrift finally
Settling to the bottom,
Unseaworthy

Perhaps one day you'll
Set sail
Hoist your colours
Tying a scarlet ribbon
To the mast for me to see
And come drifting into this
Rocky harbour

You know I'd race down
To the beach and meet
You there


Tuesday, August 5, 2014

More Metal Offerings

Project Gratification

I finished building my new steps! And they don't look half bad if you ignore the imperfections and don't inspect them too closely. But considering the adverse conditions under which they were built, and the fact that I have roughly zero experience in building, I'm rather please with how they turned out. The most gratifying thing however is feeling as though I'm having a positive impact on the farm and leaving a legacy of sorts for those to come to enjoy. Instead of a muddy slippery slope, which I personally fell down several times, they will instead have six well-spaced steps to glide up. I really don't understand the motivations to be rich and famous and powerful when so much joy can be derived from completing a simple project like this. I'm finding contentment in small victories and simple doings. I may not be working in a laboratory pipetting aliquots of the latest miracle drug or engineering some clever new contraption, or whatever else is considered a successful career path for a young professional my age and what many of my friends are pursuing. But I'm proud either way of the peaceful, rustic niche that I've crafted for myself here, where my impact is minimal and the birds sing all day long.

 In the beginning...
 In the end...
 Beautiful.