I never expected to find myself
At the beach.
But there I was-marooned by sorrow.
Isolated by grief.
I watched the crashing waves retreat.
And the roar of the ocean
Became a whisper.
Alone on the island
I found a way to be.
It was small steps.
First one then the other,
Leaving footprints in the sand.
Marking my SOS.
I became my own shelter
I hunted; made a fire.
And the night sky filled with stars
But I felt their light upon me; And I knew.
And the sun became a ball of fire.
High in the sky
Where there are no shadows.
And the ocean continued to whisper
And the gulls circled the air.
I had never been alone on the island.
When I found myself there.
By Fiona Lochhead March 17