Maine Festival

the Maine Festival was 
perfect wonderful 
a perfect Saturday with my son
I told a friend I wanted 
to make the place a commune 
and live there forever 

she did some dancing on stage 
and was oh so beautiful 
spinning magic in the sea wind
her white dress a cloud

I am pounding nails into wood again
making solid things
a good ache in my arm
tells me I have worked well

and the words
they are finding me in books and songs
philosophical, healing, wise
and funny words
laughing letters, energizing email

I am thinking too much
but morning walks interfere
with bird calls and deer tracks
mill streams finding the tide

this cold morning warns of fall
and then Maine's cold dark season
and I am wondering where I will be
and what I will learn

I am drifting again
and like that release from shore
when I head out in my kayak
I am letting go of earthly things
and floating on my faith in the sea


		© Chuck Beals   August 8, 1999