Wednesday, May 8

Words gathered in the Lemurian fishing baskets
To sit an dream
beside the lake
and wait
for it will soon be spring
and I may see
the poplars on the hill
burst their green blossoms
in a mist
a shower
a puff of dragon breath
against the pines
and winter
dark. Fran
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---
I sit alone
and view the sea.
My mind is blank,
great thoughts elude me.

I treasure the void
no words for a book
just like the salmon
they will not hook.

For what if all thoughts
emptied out on requests
and the fish of the sea
replied to fishermans quest?

I honer the silence
and treasure the sea
that refuses to offer
its treasures to me. Jane
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---
Dear little fish where are you
Hiding in the waves
Flickers of silver to tempt me
Gone in the flicker of a moment
Did you dive deep?
Into the forest of kelp?
Perhaps you are hiding down there
Under translucent leaves
That sway in the currents dancing
Dear little fish just give me a clue
To your whereabouts
Perhaps you have moved now
Under the rocks nearby
Where white water rushes through crevices
Crabs scuttle to and fro
Perhaps little fish you are floating
In the calm pockets below
Come little fish, I am waiting
Waiting so patiently
For you little fish to tell me
Stories of the sea
Come little fish, don't be frightened
I won't eat you for lunch
Just surface here for a moment, whisper
And swim with silver scales flashing
Out to your friends in the bay
Send me wave as you go, with glistening fin
And I promise never to hurt you or any of your kin
Just tell me the secrets, the secrets of the deep
So I can dream of your stories
And the writer can at last go to sleep!

Good night Lemurians, from Pauline
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

I too walked by the river
the palms gave shade
We watched and counted gulls
following the fishing boats
The village women will have baskets
and boast
of their men who bring
from the sea. Fran
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---
I have come again
and found the place we knew

I thought of you
and of the day we sat together here
and whispered

The water answered and entered
the leaves twisted and sparkled
in the autumn wind

We knew that we, no longer young
would not come again
yet river, and water, sand and the whispering wind
woul remain

I come alone
to the river
remembering Fran