If pained memories are repressed, why do
Pleasant ones also fade to forgetfulness?
Old letters and family photos thrust them
Both to forefront of mind and emotion.
Resurrected deep from decades past,
Pleasant and troubled images, shadowed
Faces entwined deep within the heart.
At times, memories of this incarnation are
Secondary to dreamed images of past lives,
Viking settlements, arduous whale-path
Voyages from Greenland to Labrador, sailing
South to Newfoundland, life at L’Anse aux
Meadows, minding children, mending
Clothing on cloud-swept Vinland barrens.
Discerning device of sleep, dreams expose
Glimpses of past lives, personal revelations,
Clockwork of imaged feelings lifted to
Reckoning light. Here on a rust-streaked
Fishing trawler, I relive briny memories –
Greek, Viking, and Newfoundland child –
Steadfastly reaching for perpetual seas.
Plowing through rolling whitecaps, I accept
Fluidity of time, turbulent and calm, sacri-
Fices others made. For certain, oceans are
Part of who I am and who I used to be,
Whether sailing amongst towering Greek
Triremes, on ocean-going Viking long-
Ships, or driving Atlantic fishing trawlers.
Too sea-weary to fathom these feelings,
I wait for longing arms of a woman to
Whom I am connected – lover, sister,
Friend – coupling of souls, sharing our
Sea-life, guarding coasts or taking fish
From deep-sea canyons, companion welling
Waves, two hardy women of the ocean.
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