I have walked here before
now in front of that sea
blooms of cloud in the S.W.
rumble, shore stripped bare
pocked rock, glare, bright sun
ocean violence, calmed by breeze
barely a rustle, coming to an end
or new beginning, fashioning
my life, fitly framed, garden of
memories cherished, love carried
with me, giving ballast as I drift
main of change, language of, possessing me
its roots plumb down, sound deep
entwine my heart, each beat, trembling
surface petals, ripples open fields
silver flowers inviting rain.
c) Jan G. Otterstrom F.
August 15, 2010