after Wang Wei

One time I built a house at Big Lagoon
by Patrick's Point just above Agate Beach
from my bedroom I could hear sea lions bark
grey whales rolled and spouted just offshore
evenings I'd watch the sun drop in the sea
an orange disk that turned the whole horizon
a hundred shades of green and blue and yellow
at night I'd lie and listen to the breakers

Once walking with my partner on the beach
a whale swam in so close that we could look
down on it's blow hole, even smell its breath
not foul but something like fresh abalone
she waded in, thinking to touch its tail
I held her back, afraid she might be injured
perhaps it was the wrong move on my part
to touch a living whale - that would be something
to remember when you're living in the hills

Now I've lived inland more than twenty years
coming to the coast only from time to time
although I've left the sea, she's not left me
closing my eyes I still can hear waves pounding
the shore, and feel the lifting of the swells
as when I ventured out in my kayak
the little craft I named the Surf Scoter
after the small bird that dives and surfaces
so smoothly it's always a joy to watch

The house I built is long since sold, but it too
lives on in memory, in many memories
the building of it was perhaps the best part
a year out of my life when every day
required a certain focus and an effort
and the comraderie of hard work shared

Now that my life is more in past than future
these things take on fresh meaning, and I bless
my parents, grandparents, the countless ancestors
whose struggles made the present possible
this human life we share with all its griefs
its joys and moments of illumination
and thus the ocean for all its living presence
and majesty is also metaphor