The Lapping Tide

This is nourishing, redemptive; we become less alone inside. -David Foster Wallace Walking through a delirium, I was tired. The sand felt like purgatory, A rising incline into a forever That my mind numbed against. I was awash of intentions, thought, even interest. I had, in short, nothing left. Then the pillars came into view. As if begging for a story, a reason for being, I was pulled, staggeringly, as if reeled from a Fishing line to those salted gray walls, The shards of church windows poking out of weathered frames. What is that felt echo? St. Ignatius? The Archange? Michael? My brother? I am so empty. I sat down on the stone to rest the non-feeling. The tide lapping into my mind. I wanted none of it. But there it was, anyway. Persistent. Maddening. Life-giving. *Matt Caliri *The Church By The Ocean *9/29/11