Blueprints by the Sea

On many days before our own I would take my wits
and walk to kill whiles and desolate summer truths.
I would be besotted with new paths I traipsed
as my world was filled with enough beauty that
I believed there was something worth locating
in its cute but pallid blueprints by the sea.
For my place was gyred by waters as if to keep
me caged, pondering their artistry, wander them
and write words in marvel and despair.

I remember the breeze would stand still long enough
should I stand there idly and just observe
that I could waste away my days in acts and in mind.
Between its bursts would come whispers within
the cracks of the waves but it was voiceless.
I knew still how it whimpered sorely as if there
was not enough spirit by my side to hamper.

It was only once I could share my world with you
and walk you by my waters with hands enlaced
that I could see the extra colours by their banks.
Those solemn spring-grown buddings
quickly faded from white to shaded hues.
And in such moments it seems only fitting
that the sky be bluer and the Sun burn golden
more so than ever on me before.

On such days I’d make a promise
never to let those colours tarnish
and to cherish each footstep on the shores.
On such days I’d make a promise
never to leave my spirit barren
or forget the splendour of our world.

Jordan Baker
2014

For never can These Waters be Revisited with the same resonance again.

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