I was reborn in 2002 on Great Kills Beach in Staten Island, NY.
I had suffered through living in Manhattan on 9/11, a job loss, and a major personal loss in 2001 and was devastated, depressed and felt all alone.
I was lucky to have a roof over my head, supplied by my mom, but I had nothing more.
I went to this beach every single day for a year.
At first I just sat and cried.
Then I sat and cried and wrote a few poems.
Then I sat and cried and took a few pictures.
Then I sat and cried a little less and started rollerblading.
As the days and weeks slowly rolled by I began to listen to the wind whispering to me. The seascape strengthened me. The waves helped to wash away my pain.
I was becoming stronger each day, and I even learned to smile again.
This is one of the first poems I wrote that year. I didn’t know it at the time but the wheatgrass I refer to was actually beach grass. I called it wheatgrass because it was the color of wheat & it flowed beautifully on the beach and through my pen.
Whenever I see beach grass now, I think of this difficult time in my life.
I am grateful it made me stronger…I am grateful for this little beach on Staten Island, that is and forever will be the gateway to my heart…
The air flows through you like a memory,
Caught beneath an unforgiving sun;
Rich shades of amber point toward the heavens,
Swaying so swiftly like an infinite goodbye.
The haunting silky grains of madness,
Invade my brain and spiral out of control;
Slimy worms of justice kiss the mouth of wisdom,
Your beauty and splendor reveal a tortured soul.
Left to tread the path of heartache,
The clarity of truth will slowly plant its seed;
Releasing the pain like a flowing blade of wheatgrass,
Finding solace in the familiar touch of rain.