Sea Palm
Unlike your giant algal cousins
Macrocystis and Cystoseria that loll
gently in the undulating cradle
of the Monterey Bay, providing
a nursery for urchins and otters,
you live on the sharp chins
of earth jutting out into open ocean
where powerful waves explode
like grenades, release
their energy, crash
down over you, batter
and press you prostrate
into submission with relentless
repetition, day and night
at each high tide. In the face
of such an assault
your flexibility is without
equal – like a Bobo doll you pop
up, ready for more.
Violence does not destroy
you as you hold fast to slippery
stone, your tuft of blades
trailing, bathed in surf.
Turbulence does not pluck you
from your perch and hurl you ashore
into refuse piles of beach wrack
to disintegrate into detritus.
No, you stand serene
like tropical palm trees
and thrive, anchored
between beds of mussels
and barnacles, exposed,
pummeled, feeling
the full force of living
on the edge –
an icon of resilience.
The end of the road
is the beginning. No longer guided
by smooth pavement of experience
your path disappears into the unknown,
where out of murky, silent fog
a mirage of adventure emerges.
It takes courage to pass warning
signs, leave the familiar,
freefall
into open space, meet
the unexpected. No longer confined
by the highway of others you are free
as blackbirds flying
over fences to chart
your own way
no matter the terrain, to risk
falling
off the GPS of convention
away from humdrum of traffic
into recognition of self.
Once begun, your journey defies
return. And to your amazement
bold traveler, satisfaction
awaits you –
shafts of sunlight
piercing
uncertainty.
Lynn M. Hansen is a marine biologist, retired from teaching after thirty-three years at Modesto Junior College, the first woman to teach science there. For years she guided field trips to the tide pools and aquaria in the Santa Cruz and Monterey Bay areas. She currently volunteers teaching science lessons to children in local elementary schools. Her poetry has been published in Hardpan, The Song of the San Joaquin, The Pen Woman, More Than Soil, More Than Sky: The Modesto Poets and Quercus Review. Her recent collection is Flicker, Poems by Lynn M. Hansen published by Quercus Review Press, 2013.
Unlike your giant algal cousins
Macrocystis and Cystoseria that loll
gently in the undulating cradle
of the Monterey Bay, providing
a nursery for urchins and otters,
you live on the sharp chins
of earth jutting out into open ocean
where powerful waves explode
like grenades, release
their energy, crash
down over you, batter
and press you prostrate
into submission with relentless
repetition, day and night
at each high tide. In the face
of such an assault
your flexibility is without
equal – like a Bobo doll you pop
up, ready for more.
Violence does not destroy
you as you hold fast to slippery
stone, your tuft of blades
trailing, bathed in surf.
Turbulence does not pluck you
from your perch and hurl you ashore
into refuse piles of beach wrack
to disintegrate into detritus.
No, you stand serene
like tropical palm trees
and thrive, anchored
between beds of mussels
and barnacles, exposed,
pummeled, feeling
the full force of living
on the edge –
an icon of resilience.
The end of the road
is the beginning. No longer guided
by smooth pavement of experience
your path disappears into the unknown,
where out of murky, silent fog
a mirage of adventure emerges.
It takes courage to pass warning
signs, leave the familiar,
freefall
into open space, meet
the unexpected. No longer confined
by the highway of others you are free
as blackbirds flying
over fences to chart
your own way
no matter the terrain, to risk
falling
off the GPS of convention
away from humdrum of traffic
into recognition of self.
Once begun, your journey defies
return. And to your amazement
bold traveler, satisfaction
awaits you –
shafts of sunlight
piercing
uncertainty.
Lynn M. Hansen is a marine biologist, retired from teaching after thirty-three years at Modesto Junior College, the first woman to teach science there. For years she guided field trips to the tide pools and aquaria in the Santa Cruz and Monterey Bay areas. She currently volunteers teaching science lessons to children in local elementary schools. Her poetry has been published in Hardpan, The Song of the San Joaquin, The Pen Woman, More Than Soil, More Than Sky: The Modesto Poets and Quercus Review. Her recent collection is Flicker, Poems by Lynn M. Hansen published by Quercus Review Press, 2013.