The poetry of Copacabana in black and white
Had ocean been my confidant
I’d have given it
All of my truths for safekeepingTales I would have written
Of seashells picking girls on beaches
Whose golden bodies were
Like isles of dreamland
But whose fates were
Like lines drawn in sand.Had ocean been my confidant
I’d have given it
All my loneliness
I’d have walked with the wind
Clasping its finger in my fist
On distant paths
From whence no one comes back!Had ocean been my confidant
I’d have given it all my depths
Stepping into its limitless
Blue bosom
I’d have made earth into my bark
Sky into my sails
I’d have made the woeful moment
Of separation
A connecting link between you and me.Had ocean been my confidant!
On a cloudy May afternoon, Copacabana was exhaling poetry. The chaotic colors of the summer were long forgotten. The day was placid gray in contrast with the agitated sea. The waves danced forming beautiful foam patterns. A fresh breeze embraced me.
The fisherman, who had been in the sea all morning, now brought their boats to land and fishnets to rest. They were selling their catch in the fish market. The surfers were the only ones in the water facing the waves. They would enter the sea defiant with their surfboards in hand only to be thrown away to land again and again.
There was a comforting feeling of peace that only the sound of the waves can bring.
Originally published at Hip Tripper.
