Secret Harbor

Secret Harbor

 

 

I begin to write of turquoise waters

and frangipani air – hammocks cradling

in air honeyed on the tongue – a lulling

born of gentle lapping waters on white

sand … the laughter of a child far away

in the distance … 

I begin to write -

Seeing the white washed stucco – the

dripping arbors of bougainvillea and the

flaming crimson of bowing flamboyant

trees – a banana daiquiri cold in my relaxed 

hand – I begin to write and it is obliterated

by the Hotel Hamas … and I yearn to gather

the mystic magic of years of peace felt in 

this getaway … gather it into mortar and

brick and build a hotel for Hamas and all

terrorists – where through the enchanted

illumed sacred something or other hatred

will melt in the heat of the Caribbean sun

and terror will turn on the tongue to sweet

mango and papaya and pineapple and

faces soften as all sway sleepy in hammocks 

hatred washed away in the crystal waters of

love…

I begin to write of Secret Harbor,  my sanctuary -

for so many years and finish with this fervent 

dream that all nightmares of the soul end … 

that the secret of peace shall no longer be held 

and harbored but 

freed at last…

for all…