SEA SAND ODYSSEY

 

Saturated with fish fry smells, Bar-B-Cue smoke,

rodeo dust and sounds of deep water blues,

with teasing frothing lace spread on the shore,

Gulf Coast birth breeze blew winds

in sails to Caribbean Sea, Blue Mountain

berries, banana walk yam hills,

 

And coconut rain drops tapping reggae beats

on zinc roof tops on cool verandah nights,

in herb scented air, curling roast breadfruit smoke.

 

The tarrying there tested the soul,

matured the spirit, fulfilled long tried

attainments of deferred dreams; then

the sea recruited its journeyman again.

 

Pacific Coast pleaded an adopted native son home.  Home

to new sea shore sands dusted in smog self negation

of urbane destruction and self nullification of community,

caught in the veiled nightmare—lurking in the promise land.

 

Hence, lessons learned from a gospel tower that never knew a church,

yet gave life-lived sermons that put homiletics to shame, crucifying

pipe-dream pie-in-the-sky nuances on the crosses of realities.

 

Atlantic waves, undulating like rhythmic buttocks, frothed

a scent of magnetism greater than the tightening hold of gravity,

attracting an uneasy soul, searching spiritual solaced sands; only

to discover that the seas all share the same shored design:  Yes.

Same shared sorrowful savage slave story!  Different sea: same sand.

Now awaits Guinea Coast sunsets and Cape of Good Hope

cul-de-sac early morning sunrises; then on to the sands of heaven.

Regrets are for those who fail to chase their dreams to realities.