The weary traveller
January 7, 2011 by gerard oosterman
Dare the weary traveller
Still walk on seeping sands
Those shells still echoes and haunt oceans
Driftwood like remnants of life
The wind still giving howls
The leaves melt into moss
Mountains’ silent glaciers
But witness to decline
Dogs remain to bark
Noontide follow mornings
Spiders spin and weave their webs
Glistening morning dew, so magic
Forever last the setting sun
On yellow gum and rocks of gold
But will the weary traveller
Still walk on seeping sands?
Window Dresser's Arms, Pig & Whistle 
Aah, I finally found yours gerard. I have been on a mission today to track down the latest psalms -and came to yours last.
It’s tough work navigating around a site that I have grown unfamiliar with–and gossiping with Voice on the way doesn’t help.
May I just say that I loved the Dutch accent and thank you for sharing the beach with the spiders and me.
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I’ve had a think about it G and I’ve come to the conclusion that there’s simply no way we can know “will the weary traveller still walk on seeping sands.”
We’ll have to hang around to find out.
The imagery prompted in my mind was of a solitary early human walking out of Africa; then by the end it was a solitary late modern human wandering where everybody had gone.
Strong in you are the powers of poesy, mmmm yes.
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“wondering” perhaps; though “wandering” works too in a queer sort of way.
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Beautiful poem, Gez. I was thinking for a while that it might not be very psalmic, but psalms as a form seem to lack definitive rules and as you know, rules are not my strong point either. So – go for it, I say. Transport me to the beach. I’m there !
Great pic. Also, interesting comment from ‘Shoe.
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A well read psalm from Mammon
elicit for some a lust for smoked salmon
To Pig’s Arms patrons so well versed
Come,let fly and give some words
A reward no-less in Pink drink T-shirts
No less profound as Virginia’s love first
So, share the joy, you fraters brothers
Maters mothers too take bothers
It’s all for fun in a wordly whirl
give us your best, you silly old girl.
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Shoe, how can one not be affected when being reminded of the place on the beach; a Queenslander in a place on Holloway Beach, at Hibiscus Lane …just hearing the names must choke you with memories…
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H, you demonstrate this kind thoughtfulness regards the likely emotional impact and influence on me of having been a resident in such a location!
It is interesting how keenly we get to know the environment we live in by its sun, wind, the sounds that are the constants and it is such an instinctive process. I think Gerard’s poem/psalm tho’ is startling comment. Unusual and powerful style.
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Beautiful Gerard! Nice piccie too…
🙂
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Lovely things are happening to these psalms.
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Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! So soulful. Some of it I don’t understand, Gez. I will live with it for a while. Thank you for your images … ‘on yellow gum and rocks of gold’ … beautiful. 🙂
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Shoe, I give this one The Braveness Award, The Willingness to Try Anything Award….
Do you like the colour yellow, Shoe?
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When it is reflected like this in nature, H, I love the burnished look of the bark of a gum and the ambience of gold. No, I don’t like yellow as a colour of a dress or item to live with in my home, H.
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This psalm of Gerard’s affected me so deeply though I felt a bit bummed out by the overall meaning and I think that is good.
It has stirred me up, H espec. ‘seeping sands’. Having lived on, actually, a beach once. The beach sand drifted though the criss-cross lattice work that was roof to floor of that front verandah where I slept. Moonlight bathing when the sea was safe was straight out the front door across the beach sand and close to the sea I can feel its moisture ‘seeping’ between my toes.
That address was in a row of residences left on the beach when the esplanade road was washed away and the beach rebuilt with naturally deposited sand. Hibiscus Lane, Holloway’s Beach formerly know as Holloway Beach.
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Yes, young Gez is quite the wordsmith.
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