Poem - Sea Spirits ..after Philip Gray
the wild sea stirs spirits
and they arise, friends and enemies,
wandering souls - drawn to me,
some perfectly preserved, smiling, in a happy death,
others, anger corrupting, suffering, grasping for life,
the horror of that goodbye - etched and echoed in silent anguish.
my sea captures moments, randomly replaying cries,
part heaven, part hell, a lover of torture,
fragments of lives float on a frothy sea,
I see scenes shown only to me,
I am of the dead - as I look upon souls,
lives lived in a moment of mist on a tall wave,
last emotions, tossed and tumbled in the spray of silent faces,
My sea, my sea, her rhythmic rise and swell calls to me,
join me, join me, be my lover, be as one with me,
let us ride the wild horse of captured souls,
and wander as the wind in seas of storm,
When I saw this painting by Philip Gray I saw the faces in the waves and they made me think of lost souls, angry at the sea taking them before they were ready. This is contrasted with those willing to die anytime, perhaps not eager, yet content in the sea's embrace.
The other strand is that of the moment, I believe that life is made of moments, each like an oasis. These moments carry you or sustain you on your journey. Standing at the rail of a ship there is always a moment for me when the sea is seriously seductive...