Breakfast Meditation
Image by Corbis
Stirred, wrapped in
Not quite turquoise
Not quiet pine green
Breakfast meditation
Season’s rhythm
A litany of thoughts
Plays upon life’s reason
Weaving stories
In strokes of sunlight
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Poem by Brenda L. McCartney
Rendezvous
Image taken from My Montserrat
Incited passions
On deserted sandy coves
Pan-seared delights on picnic blankets
Shimmering moments in the sun
Undeniable satisfying
Wild life, wet, salty breeze
Dearest memories
The unthinkable
Replenish lost energy
Brightly colored on
private narrow cays
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Poem Written by Brenda L. McCartney
Spark
Photographed by Alison Hixon
Inspired by a recent video by David Wseitz, I recalled my childhood memories of going to the beach. We would go the beach any day of the week, any time of the year. For most of us it was Sunday afternoon after church. This was done sometimes because on Saturdays or Sundays most children’s hair was washed for the remaining week. Black women are very particular about going to the ocean too often because it is almost like it is criminal offense to wet their hair. I remembered fondly when my mom came to Montserrat to visit during summer time she would take us to beach after five o’clock every morning; there was something sacred about the thirty minutes walk down hill to the beach and watching the sun rise while bathing (swimming) in the ocean. We would lie on the beach with our backs against the waves waiting for the swash (tide) to come in and once the force of the wave’s crashed against our backs we would raise up our bodies. If the waves were stronger than we anticipated we would be caught in the tides of what we called the swash and backwash. Living on an island with black sand we always looked forward to going to the beach especially on hot sunny days. Our moments of dread were when we walked on the sand to the water but that did not dampen our spirits and love for the ocean.
Over your lighted coals
Your fine sediments
Iron filings like
Gripped
My magnetic sole
My enthusiasm scorched
A dark outline mirrors my body
Roaring thoughts
The ocean a blinding flash
Sparks flew from your body
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I ran as the sea enveloped me
Soothing against the vibrating heat
The birds kept still
As they peeped from the trees
Awaiting cooler motions.
As we bathe with delight
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Poem by Brenda L. McCartney
Northern Rocks
Photographed by Susan Koster
I’ve been to a few places that seem no different than places that I have been to before. On the other hand some places give me a feeling that causes me to instantly fall in love with that particular location. Some places make me wish that I could purchase it right away because it resembles ‘a piece of heaven on earth’. There is nothing more peaceful to me as hearing the waves beat against the rocks. The rough ocean, for me, allows me to meditate on beauty, humanity and the enduring power nature.
Recently I flew over an island, the waters were tranquil and the turquoise waters seemed to whisper to me. The entire northern part of the island has a very rugged coastline which the locals refer to as “da nort side.” It took Columbus three days to coast this 60 mile shore. I am surprised that he did not just anchor his boat and build a home there.
He could have raised a few sheep and could have been the first to taste another mouth watering delight that I experienced on this island – “ Long Island mutton.
Turquoise water
Hear its burst of energy nearby
The rich coral rock glistens
as I sit and hunt the ocean
my thoughts where beauty lies
suspended, mellow
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Poem by Brenda L. McCartney
The Present
Have you ever wondered about things happening in the present that you once dreamed of as a child? Maybe it was an interest you pursued that you are now living. For some reason, for many of us, our dreams and interests seem to follow us to make our individual destinies a reality or to light our way along the paths of life. For example, the other day I forwarded photographs to my sister with highlights of how I spent my birthday, she reminded me of this story: As a child I took her to the beach and decided I wanted to go on a fishing boat ride. I approached and asked a fisherman who was about to head out to sea to haul fishing net and with my request and he agreed. Out in the deep blue Caribbean Sea the boat engine failed. I laughed because I remembered that day vividly; all I thought of how was I going to explain this to my father; never mind the fact I could not swim. I looked across at my sister into her big black eyes and as she made the sign of the cross. When we returned home, my maternal grandmother scolded me with a smile (as always) she said that I was a bit too free spirited; later my paternal grandmother agreed with her regarding my frivolous nature. My friends and family do concur up to this day; that that seems to be the natural order of my life to be spontaneous and wonderful adventures follow. As I look into my daughter’s eyes and hear her expressing herself, revealing her dreams I can not help but wonder if she will have this trait of mine. Truthfully I already see a bit of it in her now adventurous and exuberant. This prompts me to constantly whisper prayers as I am now a mother. I am thankful to God today for my daughter’s third birthday. Happy birthday Daly!
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