(a lone traveller on the beach: living-room sofa cushion)
I choose this island
and its freedom from false face.
I select a landfall apart
from the swell and tides of others.
I claim this lone strand
for the Dominion of Self.
Unattended by minions, I live
without the cant of congregations.
Self-governed, yet worthy
I shun the uncentered
fawners for lost pieces
in the shadows of Other.
I pick my comings and goings,
my music and arts.
I cull first flowers
and pitch the weeds of dependence.
My mind sharpens and sculpts itself
in monuments to glory and love
begging naught of another.
I go it alone, unafraid and unperplexed.
Respectful of this reign,
my hopes people this island.
I harvest the metaphors of life
with a timeless abandon
that knows no thought of Other.
Bygone, the grey deep moans,
now distant, unheard.
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“I sometimes think I inhabit my own country.”–Tennessee Williams
A major turning point in my life from about 1990 A.D.. A very strengthful detachment and repositioning of my life. And, looking back, far from a simple, mindless, conventional withdrawal or escape. A rebirth of significant personal consciousness and a new, truer identity as things turned out. I ‘remade’ myself in this single, signature poem and (re)confirmed my own autonomous self. And “the rest has made all the difference”, as Frost said.
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(poem previously published here Aug. 24, 2012)