Hey, how you doing? Don’t worry
I’ll sit over here – like you, where the sand is dry.
I’ll help you watch the tide.
I’m good thanks. Yes,
I like to come by after work when I can. I guess
I’m putting off getting back home.
You’ve a nice place here, with the dunes
and the stream from the hills behind.
No, I haven’t forgotten the sea.
Nor the rip that carries you out at your ease …
I’ve noticed you always swim on your own
and withdraw up here to shelter alone in the lap of the cliffs.
I do have the family, true, and love them with all my heart
but sometimes here on the shore
watching the ocean stirring and arching its back
and the clouds pacing the sky
I begin to sense a thread of kinship with you.
This sound absurd?
It’s more to do with the sense of being, underneath it all, alone.
Beneath the bustle of work and the ceaseless interaction of family life
there’s a certain stillness,
there’s a layer of deep undisturbable quiet:
a solitude like your own.
Or perhaps it’s a feeling … pervasive, imprecise …
of being at one with the elemental world:
air and water; or atoms … then the timeless aeons …
But you’ve lowered your head to the slope of the sand
and look as though you’ll doze; perhaps I’ll do the same.
We can lie beached like waka
and listen to the riddles of the sea;
there is no hurry to go.
©John Looker 2020
This was Highly Commended in New Zealand’s Caselberg Trust International Poetry Prize 2020. For all the winning poems, please go to:
https://www.caselbergtrust.org/news/read-the-2020-winning-poems

The actor Peter Hayden reading ‘Conversation with a sea lion’, Dunedin university bookshop, Nov 2020.