A Reverie Broken (by Peter Elliott)

Poem 19 of 27 in "Be Meditated"

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A pleasant sunny morning
Down by the beach
That stretches all the way
From Middle Park to Port Melbourne,

Adjacent to Armstrong Street
Surf Life-Saving club-house, to be precise.

By myself, nothing to do
I wade and paddle in the water
Up to my knees.
There is a slight swell
And every now and then
The play of the light
In the space between the waves
Captures and holds my attention
While my legs enjoy
The spa-like massage
Of breaking crests.

My reverie is broken by a man.
He has been watching me for half an hour, he says
And can't help wondering
Why I haven't gone in yet.
Do I think it's too cold?
When I answer in the negative
He comments that I look as if I'm meditating
Which I acknowledge to be the case.

He leaves me and wades powerfully into the bay
And soon is swimming with strong strokes out to sea.

The sun drops behind some clouds
And I head for home
On the way contemplating
How strange some people
Find passive recreation.
For them, water is to be skied on,
Surfed on, swum in,
Dived under, Dominated and mastered
Not simply to be enjoyed
And harmonised with.

---(Peter Elliott)---

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