In these troubled times I’ve been finding solace at the beach.
At the beach
hours ago
I stood
feet braced
in shifting sand
buffeted by the wind
marveling at collaged clouds
and feeling the growing light
like a pulse
prickling my skin
Westerly gusts
sent currents
of fine, dry sand
streaming over wet
I walked as if within
a flowing hourglass
bent into the wind,
breaking dawn
with the turbulent sea.
Now as the final sands
of this day slip by
I sit at my desk
casting back
to the beach
still feeling the push
and pull
of the wind
hearing the echo
of the churning surf
tugged outward
by moon’s invisible lure
as surely as I
am pulled toward
that tumultuous shore
time and time again
©Molly Hogan
Like so many others, I was transfixed listening to Amanda Gorman recite her poem, “The Hill We Climb”, at Wednesday’s Inauguration. I’ve listened to it again and again. With my classes. With my family. By myself. Every time I discover something new. So many have already said it, but what an amazing young woman! She gives me hope.
The day after the inauguration, the sunrise was especially stunning. I thought immediately, “Ahhhh. This must be the new dawn blooming.”
Poetry Friday this week is hosted by Laura Shovan at her blog. She’s sharing information about her February Poetry Project with the theme of “Bodies.” I’ve been lucky enough to be a part of this group for several years now and am looking forward to participating again. Laura is opening up the project by sharing prompts on her blog this year, too. Check it out!
Nix the comfort zone 
Molly, I love this poem….that you are the hourglass. That you are pulled back to the tides that create the sand that fills it. A beautiful poem. And, that sunrise! WOWSA! You are an amazing woman.
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Thanks, Linda. It’s so fascinating to watch the dry sand blow over the beach on really windy days. It’s like watching time slip away.
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The push and pull of your poem, Molly, and that gorgeous sunrise. Thank you!
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It came out well–I like how you put yourself into the hourglass, and it makes me think that we all, all of us together and each of us individually, have cycles of full and empty, we run this way and then that way as time turns us over and over again. I feel full right now.
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I’ve been thinking about that a lot, Heidi. The cyclical aspects of our lives. Did you get to listen to “On Being” this weekend? I think you’d appreciate it. I’m going to listen to it again when I get the chance and I ordered the book. Here’s the link if you’re interested.
https://onbeing.org/programs/katherine-may-how-wintering-replenishes/
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There’s a peaceful rhythm to this lovely poem as well as that knowledge that it’s impermanent even as you write it. Your photos are inspirational.
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The beach always grounds me. It’s funny because I didn’t used to be a “beach person” and I’m still not in the traditional go, hang out, lie in the sand way. But I feel the lure of the beach at dawn or in the late afternoon/evening so strongly these days.
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Those collaged clouds caught my eye, Molly. I miss living close to the beach and the ocean. Sometimes, I visit there is necessary for recharging spent batteries. See you in the Feb. group!
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Visiting the beach both recharges and re-centers me, Laura. Looking forward to next month!
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Your poem, too, is a balm, Molly. Reading it, I was there with you. Here’s to many more stunning sunrises in 2021.
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Thanks, Michelle. It’s so refreshing to feel a hint of optimism in the air!
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I like your “I walked as if within/a flowing hourglass/bent into the wind,” and Heidi’s comment.
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Just beautiful Molly. I love ‘marveling at collaged clouds” but also the idea that you are there in the north and I am waaay down south, both finding comfort in our beaches.
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Here’s to beach time no matter what hemisphere you’re in!
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The pull towards the turbulent, the tumultuous will be what moves us towards healing.
Thank you for your amazing words and images! You inspire me!
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Your comment arrived at the perfect time, when I was so in need of hearing those words, or similar ones. Thank you.
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“breaking dawn/with the turbulent sea” holds those feelings I had at the end of Wednesday, Molly. Your poem is a wonderful marker of that day.I saw your sunset on FB, what a treasure of a picture – yes, looks like hope!
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Fingers crossed! The PF community has been a life raft during these turbulent times. I’m thankful!
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Just beautiful–both poem and photos. As I read your poem, I kept thinking how the political winds of the past few years have pushed and pulled us, but we keep turning toward the shore.
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I like how you said that, Kay. “Keep turning toward shore” is a powerful mantra.
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There is no doubt that the sea, beach, and sand are balm for the soul during turbulent times and a place of peace during tranquil ones. Your poem swept me into the waves, the many times I have stood watching. Great job as a truly reflective piece! I am in awe of your sunrise photo. If you write a new dawn blooming poem to accompany it and would like to share it at my #WintersEmbrace2021 Gallery, I would gladly add it.
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If I can get myself in gear, I’d love to write and send you an image poem. I haven’t been on top of things lately though, so I can’t make any promises.
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Stunning photography. Amanda Gorman’s poem is this week’s Wednesday quote of the week for my blog. I look forward to the seeing the trajectory of her career. She reminds me of Richard Blanco, who spoke at Obama’s inauguration as poet laureate. Hannah and I saw him in Portland speak at Merrill Auditorium. Powerful.
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It’s amazing to listen to someone using words so powerfully and articulately. What a contrast to recent years!
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