Sea Isle City

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All alone with my dog,
Listening to Phish,
Wondering where the days have gone.
In a few hours, twenty-one of them
Will have passed by in the blink of an eye.
This last one started out under red flag fog
And gave way to about the best day
Of body surfing
Since the 85th and Atlantic days
Back in my youth.

Everyone has gone home,
Everyone who made this time so great.
Each day a test of endurance,
Beach time,
Clean-up time,
Alone time,
Each day better than the last,
Each day a surprise,
Whether it was sandwich pickpocketing seagulls
Or surprise waves with wrestling top rope force.

It’s just me and E, my trusty pit bull,
Who won’t take his eyes off me,
I think he is worried I’ll leave him,
But that’s not the case,
I’m looking for one more short morning run in the sand,
A ceremonial retirement of some old shoes, and
Then he and I will jam to Phish all the way home,
Some two or so hours away, back
To the oppressive heat sans the ocean breeze,
But back with all the people I love.

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A long time ago
When I was but a college freshman,
I was allowed to hang out
With some upperclassmen.
One night on a drive around Norfolk,
They took a right off of Hampton Boulevard,
And followed a quiet road to the back of a neighborhood
Where there was a large statue of Buddha lit by bright lights.

It was beautiful.
In many ways, it changed me.

I often drove that way
Drawing energy and awe
From the statue.
I wouldn’t say I am Buddhist,
But that statue,
At that time of life,
Slowed me down, literally and figuratively,
The radiance of the statue affected me that strongly.

Tonight, I again felt and saw others who
Experienced that same feeling.

I lived on the edge,
Sitting on a deck,
High above the ground
And well below flashing lightning
That cut through the sky. I couldn’t go inside.
Instead, I watched others who stopped in awe
To take in a unique surfer VW Bug across the street,
Oblivious to the fireworks overhead.

It was those feelings
Awe, uniqueness, both happening at the right time and place.

Maybe a Buddhist spirit shot into me
On those dark mornings after partying all night.
Maybe the lightning’s purpose is to grab my attention
With its powerful bolts and to take my breath away.
Maybe the simple chopped up Bug
Brings a smile to people who are tired of the same ole, same ole.
Who knows when a soul is touched?
Who knows how peace reaches our depths?

I loved that statue, I love lightning, and
I love watching people stare at that car. Beautiful.