A New Life

A blinding Turkish sun
as you enter the garden
and cross the high grass
to the cliffs
where light spins like cut glass
off the Bosphorus,
luring you to land's end
above the sea,
where you stand
with your legs rooting
into the cliff side,
your salt for the sea's salt,
as you hang like vapor
to the rocks,
your body shuddering
flow upon flow,
as it releases an excess
you call your life
you can no longer endure
as waves break into rock,
the sun singeing the landscape
into a paled brown,
as you linger for hours
drawing energy back up
from the sea as it bursts
from the fissures in your feet,
flooding the clockwork
inside, every spring
gear and pin polished,
and your skin flushes
and the horizon sparks
as ships pass, which
you release light towards,
light you now possess,
that will lead you back
through the blazing fields
to the walls, voices, and faces
of your new life.


Poems by Richard Callin:

A New Life
Nine One One
Touring County Mayo, Eire
The Buick
How I'll Tell Him
A Story
Water Wheel

TIMES TEN: An Anthology of Northern California Poets