Wednesday, 13 June 2012

The Island

Without much thought it seemed, I stepped off my little island.
I could say, I even leapt off it.
I could say, it was my impulsiveness; but really, it was my fear.
Fear that its beauty would fade if I stayed any longer;
The magic that tingled through my bones as the earth flowed between my toes would numb down;
The salty chill of the ocean breeze giving its secrets away to me in whispers would lose its allure.

I looked like a little girl hopping on to her next adventure
In many ways I was.
A world beyond my island that I still ached to explore.
Coral reefs my fingers wished to feel
Lagoons that my dark skin was waiting to taste.
Yet, swimming ahead and away: heart-wrenching.

I will preserve everything in the drawers of my memory.
No photographs, no messages in bottles, no souvenirs.
When memory fades, it will be regenerated
Something far more bewitching than it ever was.
The fruit sweeter, the sun warmer, the view more breathtaking.

The most valuable things
The ones with the most glimmer and sparkle
Deserve not to be contaminated by Time.


  1. Wow, this is a very beautiful piece! Very vivid, I love the imagery you create, as well as the message.

    1. Thank you very much. I am glad you enjoyed it :)

  2. lovely prose, Marita. there is a watercolor, wishful beauty to
    your writing. i can relate to the fear if i stay to long will the
    beauty vanish? and love: will preserve everything in the drawers
    of my mind. excellent. [society has become so obsessed with
    preserving paraphernalia. [and i must admit i have succumbed to
    this at times] thank you!

    1. Haha, Paige and Shauna, I sure hope you will stay and see for yourself. I hope I can keep you coming back! It's good to have you around.

      I too often hoard "stuff" and sometimes it does help to remember, but lately I've been feeling i'm better off without paraphernalia.

  3. very well written.... a nice pen picture!