Remembering Iona

Iona: One-Year Anniversary
10-2-03

I thought I would more readily forget
the wind, the rain, the lichen on the rocks,
the thick grass, damp earth, puddles everywhere,
and the sound of the waves sliding over the rocks
all night. I slept with my window open,
listened to the waves, the night, the deep, full silences
between waves. The next morning,
I collected a handful of sand from the shore.

I didn't spend enough time walking alone,
breathing the air, inhaling the mist,
licking the salt from my lips.
I got drenched twice on that island,
caught in downpours with nothing
to do but walk, and laugh and sing as loudly
as the rain. I would have looked like a fool,
had anyone seen me, had anyone been there
to see. I was myself those two days,
two short, rich, full days, with deep nights---
all blackness, all clouds and mist and sea noise.

I can remember more than I realized
I would, more than I had hoped.
The ground was uneven, unplowed, unshaped
by machines or human will. Everything, all things
were saturated with moisture---it was life, and breath.
I could have stayed there, lost myself
there, found myself. I didn't mind the rain,
didn't mind the spots on my glasses,
or wet wool, or long, dark nights.
I could have found my way without light,
learning the earth, letting its curves guide me
there, near the sea.

© 2003 April K Szuch

Comments

[a d a m]

Okay April, so this poem only makes me and my friend Josh want to go to Iona even more this summer...thanks for sharing - I look forward to more poetry from April...