Coracle
Cast adrift, I float.
My boat a simple coracle:
Bent withies, rawhide shell,
No sail, no paddles.
Calm as a village pond
The sea holds me
Cupped in watery hands
I could step ashore,
Wet no more than knees,
Feel feet on shingle
And a heavy failure.
The current catches-
I whirl like lily leaf let loose.
Dizzied, I sit down,
Hug my knees and wait:
The farthest shore is near.
Zen and the Art of Tightrope Walking 
This is exquisite. What I get from it is that the ocean is a metaphor for transformation.
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Thank you Jade.
It is about tranformation and exploration; many Celtic mystics literally did what the poem describes and set off to sea without oars and chose to let faith take them to their fate.
I can’t comment at yor blog as it simply refuses to let me, though I have tried several times, but to let you know I am reading and enjoying yours
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the faresthest shore is near… i love that…
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i do need a spell check! oh well… the beauty of your statement still holds true!
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No worries!
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My husband commented this morning that perhaps seeing The Voyage of the Dawn Treader can influenced this; there is a scene at the end when a character sails off in a little coracle…But the poem was written a year or two ago; perhaps the film prompted me to post it.
xx
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Lovely poem, Viv. The imagery is beautiful.
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Thank you Mimi!
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Love the image of lying in the bottom of a boat and just floating freely. A friend of mine used to tell everyone that he was going fishing, but he’d just lie in the bottom of the boat and float. People teased him about never catching a fish. He’d wink at me. We knew his soul time was the best catch of all.
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That sounds like bliss!
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Journeying…this last year I have felt enclosed in a small space, not unlike a coracle, and set adrift, simply with the hope that “the farthest shore is near”. Many thanks. Your offering has brought it closer.
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I am glad. There is always hope.
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