Beating into the winds from the sea?
These are the South East Trades you know;
They like to blow at twenty knots.
Are you drawn towards where the green water merges to the blue?
And the blue sky to the blue mist?
Or do you seek the haven of the far off Low Isles,
Palm fronds calling from a coral sea?
Can you not see, though, that the breakers are white,
That they have no should as they wait for you?
I do not speak of the obvious ones,
Rustling in warning lines on the white sand as you rise over them;
I speak of those everywhere beyond,
Everywhere waiting for your wings to tire.
Why not cease your striving and let the wind carry you back to the shore?
There may be sterile cane fields here,
But there are palm trees too.
Palm trees; and the sun is warm in the hibiscus.
Do you beat on towards your island knowing that if the worst comes to the
worst whiteness is all colours merged in one?
Because, too, wild hope and tame hibiscus are not of the same world?
RAE, 1976
Beating into the winds from the sea?
These are the South East Trades you know;
They like to blow at twenty knots.
Are you drawn towards where the green water merges to the blue?
And the blue sky to the blue mist?
Or do you seek the haven of the far off Low Isles,
Palm fronds calling from a coral sea?
Can you not see, though, that the breakers are white,
That they have no should as they wait for you?
I do not speak of the obvious ones,
Rustling in warning lines on the white sand as you rise over them;
I speak of those everywhere beyond,
Everywhere waiting for your wings to tire.
Why not cease your striving and let the wind carry you back to the shore?
There may be sterile cane fields here,
But there are palm trees too.
Palm trees; and the sun is warm in the hibiscus.
Do you beat on towards your island knowing that if the worst comes to the
worst whiteness is all colours merged in one?
Because, too, wild hope and tame hibiscus are not of the same world?
RAE, 1976