Magic and Stories

Daring the Waves

Hard sand almost covered by the tide,

soft surge of ripples, half circles approaching,

retreating. Farther out, breakers, ominous, rising,

falling into sulphurous sea, lunging, roaring.

I splash my feet, running the tide line, stumbling

back to the shingle, soon to be washed clean,

turning away as the water surges closer,

I leap to the shingle, scraping my toes,

the sea now reaching me, cat and mouse.

I clutch at the cliff face, seeking a foothold

scrabbling and stretching, the sea at my knees.

I find a roughness, haul myself up, finding

purchase for my feet, seeking another handhold,

the cliff face is smoother, I daren’t look down,

gasping with exhaustion, the sea touches me,

I recoil, the cold shock, the breakers so near,

spray on my face, the next wave will take me.

No! I shout to the lowering sky, the angry tide.

Then a voice, calling my name, above me.

You are here, you have come to find me,

leaning over the edge, your arm dangling,

you stretch out your hand, hauling me upwards

till I lie with you on a grassy plateau.

Afterwards I was afraid, suppose you’d been too late,

after my strength had gone, the sea embracing me.

I’d left you in your own world, different to mine,

it’s possible I may never have crossed your mind.

You gave me coffee and brandy, a bath, warm clothes.

“What did you think you were doing!” you say.

How could I tell you, when I hardly knew myself

Only that I was looking for some great experience,

something taking me beyond our ordinary life.