LOVE IN BOLINAS by Carol Harada
I.
Surfers rise and fall
with the ocean’s noisy breathing
Bobbing blobs on surefooted boards
You stand out, your torso upright
Gaze grazing Hawaii
then on to the source of this wave
Back on shore I sit unseen,
one with the rocks crumbled from the cliff
Descended from the steep roped trail
You hailed a fast Manhattan cab
to the untamed coast of me
You’ve always looked west
You worship what’s coming
We ride the tides of love
Our seal bodies cavort wetly in bed
Sometimes, you tell me,
you have to go out,
meet the big wave.
Paddle out farther
than you think you should go.
I know the place,
out where things deepen and swell,
split into crash and curl
Your hands on my hips
heedless of sharks
Now you are up
Your agile joints roll smoothly in their sockets
Hips swivel and rock
I kama sutra multiple times
Your slender feet grip and point toward shore
I zag to the right and you spill over the top
dissolving into foam
After tumbling down the steep roped trail,
this falling is easy
The ocean takes you in and lifts you up
You walk out of the dying waves
I catch you,
evolving.
II.
My son
is the one
above all others
He spirals through the fibers of my heart
A labyrinth where none may follow
You suspect his secret name is tsunami
You dread the wipe-out ahead
Never been the father type,
so you say
Paddle out farther, my mantra
when I finally let you meet him
All my kid cares:
you surf and are willing
to teach him
I anchor the bobbingboard lesson from shore
Calming the waves with my ermine brush
The watercolor block steady on my lap
Each dip into pigment enriches the sea
I paint the creatures beneath the calm
surprised to find so many
With one swipe I wipe away jaws
and jellyfish
and dangerous riptides
I look up to see you
both on one board
rising upright on suction cup feet
I can almost hear your screams
as you make your way
through thick water.
III.
You confess one night,
I wish I’d been there
when you imagined yourself into waves
I recount how the midwife caught him,
slipping out between curl and crash
Surprised to hear your own meaning,
you call him
Your perfectly fatherless son
You always have moved forward
right into the way
that’s open before you
He drowsily murmurs:
The walls aren’t thick enough
I sink in shame and I rub his back
Mom, this one’s different
He treats me like an untested wave
My ears relax
You’re different too
You’re happy
I vow to get a white noise machine
I see you transmit
the boomerang, the spear, the buffalo hunt
You make the Frisbee zing look easy
My two men,
one coming of age,
the other coming to shore
Riding this next wave
One becomes two becomes three
Becomes one.
