First time in another world,
a magical low-tide place.
Barrier reef, bared each day,
encloses wandering sea turtles.
Alone at dawn, I smile as rounded gentle heads
break the surface, breathe, and disappear.
Stepping gingerly from dividing ledge
I ease myself into cool waters.
Push off, arms spread wide in wonder
head down with snorkel gear.
I float. Watching. Waiting . . .
in this absolutely quiet place.
Magnificent beings glide by,
slow motion ballet of graceful power.
Heads and legs, speckled green-browns,
protrude from massive solid backs.
Finning wide of me, angling below me
as if I am not there, yet I am. Mesmerized.
Occasionally one peers at me,
our eyes lock and I gasp within my soul.
I am afloat, savoring stillness,
experiencing a mystical time.
Kelly hosts Poetics today at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets, and asks us to write a narrative poem about a “first.” Photos: the “back yard” of a rental house we stayed at three times in Hawaii, the Big Island. Out of the way, it has its own “pool” of tropical fish, the body of water at the bottom of this photo. Dug by the owners, it has a wire mesh grate that allows the ocean in and out but keeps the amazing tropical fish they’ve stocked it with, within the pool. Snorkeling there was amazing too. I’m standing greeting the dawn…and the next body of water you see is what’s called Champagne Pond which snakes back, for quite some distance on the left, out of sight. You barely see the pile of rocks/barrier, exposed at low tide, separating the pond from the ocean proper. Two small photos, I took with a cheap, throw-away underwater camera. Large one is a postcard. We’ve not been back for many years but it is a “first” I shall never forget.