"Crossing Over"... The Final Voyage over the Columbia River Bar ... to points beyond the Pacific Ocean
"Crossing Over"... The Final Voyage over the Columbia River Bar ... to points beyond the Pacific Ocean
Red sky at morning ... sailors take warning !!!
First dawn's light steals away over the towering Cascade Head.
A heavy autumn dew dripped from the Whaler's bow rails
as sun rays flashed like beacons from rain-forest headlands on high;
where Pacific Northwest rivers September equinox dawning ebb,
pushed us mercifully unto the chilling stiff autumn sea breeze.
Dappled sun reigning through the pinkish purple morning sky,
patchy fog adorning the awakening inshore headlands atop the bay,
shining from the pearly gate’s mission bells higher ground
beckoning another fisherman lost and found at sea come home...
Heaven’s lighthouse alerts the celestial sky
of the pending eminent soul journey,
highlighting the distant horizon’s breaking swells
capped of white meringue sea foam.
Sea gulls escort precious cargo's final voyage,
gliding gracefully in the shadows of the firmament,
our lungs filled, revitalized with the salty air's poignant elixir
Pelican vanguard's white light reflection guiding our vessel seaward,
alone in a perfect storm...
Northwest gales standing up the ebbing tide’s uprising crescents,
waves pounding in rhythmic flow;
calling all angels, my ruminating mantra
the Clatsop Spit’s dangerous song sounds the stark reminder,
life's raucous changing seasons, prevailing winds siren’s call,
that now is nearly here...
The countenance of flowing salty tears liberating release,
vast ocean's raw
sheets of saltwater spray would not hide.
He just sat and stared at the seaward horizon
while the telltale tears flowed ,
perhaps a dream of a merciful final surrender with eyes wide open,
love steering our vessel west where sun shines to set
Now far beyond the visible ache,
for mine own eyes blur trepidation teardrops
rained as sheets of sea,
the wordless conversation known ,
the compass full circle drawn
like the sacred salmon's cycle ends
to nourish back ancient sage unto its own;
forever beginning life, eternally drawn through river estuaries
stirred by ebbing infinite tidal pull...
There is an oppressive weight found
within paternal understanding,
and yet, as certain as the dawn promises the inevitable setting sun;
all things must pass as sure as all things begin,
someone you love most, longest in life
has come forth to break bread at sea as the torch is passed,
sharing life for the last time comes too soon with little warning.
There was an emotional unidentifiable hollow pang,
as if letting go gradually, yet potentially instantly,
drains every last drop of a breaking heart ache;
strength swallows sighs lumps in throats, words better left unsaid
only cleansing tears flow, knowing when they start to purge
they might not want to stop again
.
This moment's final autumn’s changing season’s waning ebb
That final riptide will forevermore change all other rivers’ flow,
where oceans set mother earth's rivers free until the end of time...
My father ... a man's man who seemed to find a peaceful Zen;
an unfinished life was reborn that day to see it through
as my hands grasped the wheel, compass held steady,
the son to carry on the weight of love ,
compassionate understanding taught
love inspired the fortitude to carry on knowing we can
never go back.
As a life flashed before my eyes on that final raging Pacific sea,
instincts mused by ancient Tyees’ souls
stirred new sun's radiant rays of perception;
accepting this life on earth would never be the same
yet would just simply be,
knowing this light's shine will never glow quite the same again,
yet radiate a more vivid luminosity...
We melded into that first day of Autumn,
falling silent, heads held high
There was nothing left to be done but pray with eyes wide open
“spirits of all oceans of mother earth …
show the sacred salmon the way to peaceful waters back home”
Few words were spoken as everything was silently said.
"To everything there is a season and a time to every purpose,
under Heaven"
The Outrage, knuckles white the wheel,
climbed mountainous long ocean swells
breaking over the giant boulder jetty;
there rolls the mighty Columbia jaws,
where all Rivers suffuse with vast oceans, eternally free...
.... Harlon Rivers .... September 25th . 2013
Written with the fondest loving memories of my father's life and times shared~
So much of this day's memory is deeply repressed and each year I try to free a little bit more but each year passed has been privately circle filed, yet I try again to be set free..
Purging emotions so intense that they are nearly blacked out...I have never tried to publish any memory of this day until now although I do find hints that come to me much later after publishing some creative writing, I did not realize the basis of depth until later private moments...
It was in fact the day of the Autumn Equinox a few years ago, a final birthday celebration of sorts combined with bringing the Boston Whaler Outrage, home. Dad passed 1 week later after this trip from Pancreatic cancer ...we spend the final 72 hours alone together at Hospice after his September 25th birthday..."Crossing Over" R.I.P. Dad
Stormy Seas
I believe this poem linked below is one of my favorites I have written to be an earlier creative account of this emotional day.
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