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Ahingas at dawn
poised between the viscous and the thinning
drying their wings
~
Algae blooming
convoluted and impatient
now remembering their place
~
A young man with dark eyes
continually filling his truck bed
with damaged and forest overgrowth
~
Muscling new piers with humor
immersed in sea water
they’re building the new bridge
~
The many Gods speaking as the roots of Origin
actively assemble
the thaw
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I sat on the dock overlooking the fresh water lake each day watching the ahingas. They are cousins to the cormorant and pelican, sometimes called “snakebird” as they swim submerged except for their heads above the water. Their feathers aren’t waterproof like ducks, so they open and dry their wings off before being able to take flight. There’s a lot of silent standing, occasional diving, gliding and wing drying….but mostly just standing there facing the light.
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Photo…”Ahingas” Meher Baba Center, North Myrtle Beach, SC
Muscling new piers with humor….. 🙂 smiles hedy
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Definitely an inspiration…..!
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😀
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“poised between the viscous and the thinning” : an in-between place I’d never considered. Lovely.
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Thanks Carolin. I was taking note at how the ahingas simply stood… taking it all in. Living in the different worlds of air and water. Exactly…pausing and drying their wings in the space in between. Smart birds!
Sometimes words just appear….like “viscous”. Poetry is like that. You know they’re right and the whole poem opens up….
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I love how words sometimes just appear, up through airy soil that’s been well mulched, when we’re open to them. Digging for them can leave me with lines of sodden clay.
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So true! and beautifully illumined Carolin…
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Ah, such an evocative poem and photograph, dear poet friend. You are quality of life.
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Thanks Bonnie….smiles!
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I was right there watching with you Jana!
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Smiles! It often feels that way Mark….
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We have two pairs of cormorants who do the same thing, sitting on the breakwater.
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Yes, right! Sitting on the breakwater…. sounds like a song.
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i go to my bed filled with your images of light – sweet dreams
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each word a drop of the ocean we share!
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low tide
~
found art
collective shells
transcending
expanded minds
~
migratory birds
explore
evaporating tones
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recumbent as beached seaweed
eyes peeled to the nubs of tossed shells
the glint of glass
primeval memory of gill and scale
beckoning warm pools in the sun….
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I just can’t stop smiling reading you again.
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Thanks Chris….It’s often the best headlamp.
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