"untitled" by Lindy Lavers

By Evie Lavers - September 27, 2011

And I run, bare foot, treading heavily on to the cool damp sand under foot. Crushing shells as I go, running madly, running wildly, running blindly, running unhaltingly to find the junction between land and the sea.

On a evening, the ordination begins. The sky is dressed is dressed in a gown of purple and crimson huen cloth. Edged about with gold and stitched with the silver rays of the moon. It is draped before a backdrop of screaming orange, yellow ochre and raging red.

The night as it takes its dominion pays tribute to the day with turquoise streamers and the hues of the oceans shallows and depths. When finally, its crown the moon is presented wearing a cape of darken silk, sequenced with stars.

I am seduced, transfixed. Standing still now, facing outward towards the horizon, which takes a long stretch. Confident in its longevity draws a line between the seen and not seen, between the knowing and the longing for.

The wind raises its salty, raspy voice exhausting its self above the baritone swells that bellow in unfaultingly. The sopranos of the sea, the gulls that scream and scavenge can be heard overhead somewhere in the distance.

I trace the path, pearlized by the moons glow out onto and into the Indian Ocean. I take the first of many deep breathes. sucking in the oceans saltiness. I watch as my chest rises and falls to the rhythm of the oceans coming and going.

My ocean of so many childhood memories now teases my toes, warm kisses and cold caresses. Lieghton bridge, the cross over is where i left my heart...

Written by Lindy Lavers.

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