DUNALASTAIR DESTINY® Original, contemplative poetry by Donna J. Fennel.
Depicting a dejà vu I had experienced in a dream, recently.
Quilled on this 17th day of June, 2003 ~ Especially for thee.
Revised by dawn’s early light just for you on April 28, 2006.
This vision appeared to me by way of a lucid dream ...
Driving down the Dunalastair coast, I came upon a cove ~
A scintillating scene I admired, while on the beach I drove.
Yet, I soon realized I had never ventured near here before ~
This ocean of ages I now explore, this realm of rocky shore.
O, why I was obsessed to visit these Celtic knolls and crests?
What was this calling, I found so appalling, to journey here?
As my heart palpitates, seeking to pierce my breast of unrest ~
I am now experiencing distress, while I slowly start to regress.
The misty moors opened doors, ascending beyond my view ~
Those familiar yet omnipotent odors, of which I barely knew.
Fragrances ere so fresh, well-enmeshed amidst sand and sea ~
Deliver memories that made me quiver so, flooding back to me.
My mind is bereft of impending doom, as I witness no gloom ~
For this Brigadoon of beauty beckons me to sojourn towards sea.
Undulating ebbs and tides in a rhythmic rhapsody, calling to me ~
Yet here, there lurks a phantasm smote with despair in this lair.
The curling and unfurling of these whispering, wanton waves ~
Their sensuous sounds resound and impound, vexing my gaze.
Tempestous tides ere glide, beckoning to ride, had seen all hours ~
For within their lulling lair, they snare the mind of all its powers.
As creamiest cocoons of clouds shroud so proud an azure sky ~
Shaped like cherubim wings, ere more they cling, while gulls sing.
Ah, their billowy breasts cradle and caress, as they sashay ere high ~
These sights new, yet so askew and odd were such fascinating things.
Alas, so strange that I yearn to travel here, as familiarity draws near ~
For the closer I got to this lullaby lot, my mind became overwrought
With anguished memories of what occurred, from my days that were ~
Approximately five centuries ago, when primordial bagpipes did blow.
The hills beyond whisper haunting tale, in those days when I set sail ~
To midnight sun in Nordic lands, where I yearned for my love’s hand.
Now the sea sanctions me to set this specter free; this is why I am here ~
My stomach churns, while passion burns to finally eradicate this fear.
O, I know I was called here, today, to walk ‘neath skies of gull cries ~
For in a recurring, lucid dream, I had seen my own past-life demise.
Within this vision lay prism of cataclysm unbeknownst to me til now ~
Should I stay or go? I thought, as I wiped my sweat-strewn brow.
In this life, I had ne’er driven here before, or walked ‘pon the sands ~
Upon this Scottish land, which left its brand from the ancients’ hands.
My heart thumps in my heavy chest, as I wade into this sea of destiny.
I must be cautious for in my former lifetime I had died here, you see.
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