Imagine an island.
An island you can only imagine.
Its walls were thin,
Strengthened with rocks
They’d bring from the sea.
Rocks and bits of shell and coral and sand.
I was a coast guard there,
Looking at stars on its beach,
Couldn’t articulate what I felt,
I was in awe with its mystery,
Wondering what was under it.
With the land everything is visual:
It’s beautiful but not mysterious.
Have you ever heard a warm ocean’s breathe?
That’s what I’ve seen,
When you stood by the heating,
And the moon was behind my back.
Tonight, it was only me
Coming up for air
On you, my island,
With your pier pointing to the full moon,
With the birds sing
In your forest room.
I can build it again in my memory:
See my coast guard station,
Your hands talking to me,
And see what’s beneath your sleeve –
Like protective rings,
Softening the currents that come in
From different directions.
You may argue that I have not seen it,
Not seen many of the things
That I will tell you in this poem.
Anyway, I will return to the this beach
I hatched from,
In my sogni d’oro –
No matter how many decades
Or seas I have to cross.
Some things are not open to argument.
I was running towards the sea,
In order to see you, my island.