Ocean vision

Nianitc, Connecticut
(Image by jjbers)   Details   DMCA

In the past

I would often look out at the ocean

Hoping to see something that isnt there

Which I never saw,

Because it never was there,

But no matter.

Now I look out at the ocean

For what is there

That I just cant quite see.

I am no longer looking for anything

But for the ocean itself

Which is not object-oriented but ecstatic.

The ocean by itself is enough.

But am I enough?

So the ocean is helping me process this

By never showing me what isnt there,

Knowing I will only settle

For what was always there

Just invisible.
..........................
Reflection:
We visit Monhegan island every summer two times, once in June, once in September. September is best for a number of reasons: fewer people,,comfortably cool, lots of late summer wild flowers growing by the paths and between the rocks and the ocean just seems wilder. Being on Monhegan is always an experience. I'm very introspective there, more than usual, processing whatever I bring (in my head and heart) that needs processing. This time I guess there was more than usual.
We compost. I suppose you do too. I hope so. Anyway, my friend (who, along with his wife, joined me and Shirley for our week there this time) straightened me out on my terminology regarding compost. He calls the vegetable-based food that we set aside for the compost bin "garbage" which he says it is until it decomposes. The reason I brought that up is, it helps me explain how I process on Monhegan. I come with a head and heart-load of garbage, which I break down just like time and bacteria and worms and weather break down our scrap food, transforming garbage into compost. When I leave the island, all the garbage I brought with me is compost, all ready to add to the soil of my mental / emotional garden. That's how it works.
This poem "Ocean Vision" is a good example of how I use poetry to process. It documents how I have finally learned how to look at the ocean -- to see it as "enough". I don't need to see a boat or a seal or a whale in the ocean to be content. The ocean is enough. It is more than enough. The question posed by this poem is "Am I enough?".Enough for what? Well, I'm the one who is seeing and feeling and processing. Am I worthy of spending a whole week with the island I love? Am I worthy of my realizations that set my mind free? The answer is not given in the poem, but the "ocean is helping me process this", by modeling what being enough looks like. This was the only poem I wrote during my week on the island. Usually I write several. But it is enough.