Dancing Dolphins

Dancing Dolphins

When we walk on the beach looking down
scouring white sand for seashells,
mollusk armor of dead clams, oysters, snails,
we miss the sight of the wind tickling the tide,
of undulating sounds reflecting white ancient souvenirs,
of Dolphins prancing and dancing in the water,
of Pelicans open-beaked diving for lunch.

Solitude offered by repetitive rolling water
fills my soul with gratitude.
I am never without words
to describe the wonder
of a baby playing with toys in the sand
while dad fishes for whatever bites,
of watching three young men in a motorboat
in their daily ritual,
one throws a net over and over
into the water next to the dock
desirous of catching the bait, one at a time
then leaving to fish the mangroves til sundown.

As humans, we are fragile as light is thin.
Pain feels like our enemy, yet is often our friend.
Hate fuels our revenge, yet teaches us love.
Grief floods through our bloated veins, yet opens our hearts to the sky.
Fickle-eyed daydreams stir the edge of drifting death.
Nascent native tongues carom narcissistic wanderings.
The promise of promiscuous poets paint cave walls with truth.
Never is a word stricken from language of biblical verse.
Priests are the enemy of children, soldiers are the lovers of men.
Man wages war on one another and the bees are all dying slowly.
Show me the way, I will build you the tools to create.
Fly me away, I will cross over borders that separate us.
Walls are the answer you give, never is the question I ask.

Dennis Wayne Bressack
Woodstock, New York December 15, 2016