We steal to lose every color
From the sky
Then crawl as a child
While the shadows burn our eyes
We know there’s no longer shine
On this burned out rainbow
Lately it seems we’ve been chasing
What times resolved
Maybe something means nothing here
Whispers are now screams
This conclusion never ends
My pride with your kiss
Even angels can’t defend
We know we’re running head on
Into our confusion
Still we hide safe behind these crumbled walls
Cause we know there’s nothing here after all
I sat on this bench today for over an hour thinking about the past, the future and where I hope to be in a year. Like most people I have had my share of heartaches, scars on my heart that will never truly heal. And yet I feel there is something more here after all.
This is the view of Camden Maine from the summit of Mt Battie in the Camden Hills State Park. Today is the second day of my mini vacation from driving a truck for the purpose of recharging my personal batteries. As of late I find my will to sustain the trials of everyday life strained to the breaking point, a frustration rooted in my impatience born out of a strong need for true independence.
The call of the ocean and all the freedom it promises is tearing at my very soul, calling to me even in my sleep to let go the bonds of Terra Firma and feel the exquisite rhythm of the moons control, the sway of the winds force shaping the water that covers the earth. I so long for the release of solitude, and yet I still manage to find some resolute kindness in my fellow man.
When I made the decision to come to Camden for my vacation I thought I might find accommodations suited to my tastes, albeit a little expensive, but what I found was so much more than a place to rest my weary head. What I found was new friends.
Within these walls I found a place Betty Davis called home on her many visits to Maine. I also found an overwhelming sense of comfort in the arms of the hosts, Bob and Cat Hobson. The currant owners of this stately home have an manor of considerate ease, a presence in keeping with all that is gracious and kind just the way innkeepers should be. I must admit I was happy to find such exuberant souls so happy in their place on this earth.
On my way here I took this photo of the Penobscot Narrows Bridge. My dream of sailing under this gateway to my freedom is still very strong, the image a focus of desires sweet draw. The day I set sail, free from the bonds of a life I neither want nor can escape as of now, will be the rebirth of one so eager to let go the past.
When I snapped this shot this morning I felt an incredible feeling of calm, a sense of peace that will fill the voids of my mind and soothe the scars of a youthful folly. The power of the sea is the salve that will lesson the sting of all that is painful, push aside all that haunts my dreams. I will let go the past and embrace the future for what it should be.
Here is a few more pictures of this blessed vacation…
Lastly I would like to share a poem I wrote some years ago. It still holds sway to the soul that resides within…
The Sea, the sea, her draw unrelenting
In her depths, voyages of glory and anguish
Names written down, never forgotten
Searching her shores for childhood castles and dreams long washed away
The sun kisses water as fish and fowl bow gracefully before her beauty
The pull of wind over sails, the feeling of conquest as you search for distant shores
The smell of fear as waves crash over decks
The wild eyes of sailors set with steely determination
The comfort in the gental sway anchored in the lee of a tropical island
All these things and more abound within the grasp of those who wish it
The Sea, the sea…as she calls out, come to me…
John David Ray