Sunday, March 10, 2013

"Beach Combing, walking along some beach in some very remote area in the Arctic, seeing only tracks where I have been, as any different tracks are from the waves leaving their signatures in the sand. A fresh water stream finds it's way to the beach, colored with tannic acid of decaying peat moss from the tundra.  A sleeping Sea Gull on a dune sheltered by bunch grass, eyes opening and closing as an Arctic Tern makes the wind it's slave. Walking on, over the little streams, over the small driftwood piles from the Yukon river or maybe the Kobuk and dead starfish, I am swaying now a bit and reach for my filter bottle and drink.  Even now as I look behind and see that my tracks are gone from layers of waves telling me I am alone again without them. I make new ones that last for a little longer as I move up to the crest of a beach, into the banks where ground squirrels chirp in protest. I remember a walrus ivory doll as a scientist would name it, but then in a very certain reality, it is Amulet, non-Human in construct, perhaps a 'Pleiadian' record of times lost to any memory, yet, serves me as companion as it has thousands of years in the distance, one like it around my neck, a reminder that living in the cities of the multitudes offers gray colors, darkness with shades of despair of those locked in prisons of their concepts of alluded successes, complex and incurable."

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