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Captiva Pass (BOOK 6)
Ten Penny Playerspublication
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Children of LightChildren of Lighta poetry novel
Book VI: Captiva Passby
Mary Clark
The soul is a burning desire to breathe
in this world of light and never to lose it
to remain children of light.
Albert Schweitzer
Ten Penny Players Publicationwww.tenpennyplayers.org
Copyright Mary Clark 2004
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Dedicated to
Robert K. Nicholasmy sixth grade teacher
Sarasota, Florida
Special Thanks toRuth Buck Clark
for her help with the flora and fauna of Florida
andBradford Dov Lewisfor his encouragement
Illustrations byForrest Stanley Clark
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Captiva Pass
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ooMorning comes, a surprise
sea hibiscus yellow at first light
blood red at noon
scarlet hibiscus on the bank of a swamp
marsh mallow pink and high on the stalk:
the roses of eternity
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The play of light in all its variations
in laurel cherry and long leaf pine
gives way to sweet bay and railroad vine
as Dia travels in a pure straight line
to Leila, the Old Man and the island
the center of all designing
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CHILDREN OFLIGHT BOOKVI: CAPTIVA PASS
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The Hutton house a wrecked ship
risen to the surface of the sea
floating sacrificially, twisted steel
and blackened beams
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Rain falls on the white house
the Old Mans cabin, Leilas bungalow
as Dia watches the sun come and go
serene, muted, among clouds
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With an incendiary burst the sun
fills the sky, fires the rhythmic sea
and Dia is swept away
by the frail transience of reality
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The Old Man says, I thought you forgot me
she laughs, you know I would not
and she helps him sweep sand from his home
a shipwreck that smells of wind and sea foam
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Dia asks Leila, where is he?
and Leila smiles, Ill tell you the way
Dia runs along the shorelines wide
and graceful swing into the sea
swept along by a tide quick as fire
In the darkness she feels light as light
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ooNight swimmers in the phosphorescent sea
at Naples by the fishing pier
on Sanibel Island beaches luminescent
with angels wings
Eric rests in the fold
of high curved banyan roots
where gravity takes hold
and takes in the sea roll
of the Gulf of Mexico
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In the bend of Captiva Island
Eric meets his friend
and he says, I want to live
among the people you have found
and who have found you
to give myself up to a life-swoon
but La-ha-ta tells him
your light is sea and wind
and carves its own path within
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Eric asks, arent you angry
at having been abandoned
having no parents, no home?
La-ha-ta says, I was abandoned
and I will be again
perhaps I needed no home
no mother or father
but what have I overcome
compared to you?
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Eric feels Dias hand on his shoulder
he says, you have always been strong
she answers, I considered the possibility
I might be wrong and threaded my guilt
through my innocence
until this quilt was all around me
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This is the quilt many wear, rightly
but even though you are wound tightly
you know deep inside the cocoon
the ultimate truth:
the birth of the soul
has no mother or father
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ooOn an island cast away like a stone
from the Everglades two walk alone
through mounds of shell and bone
where pioneers from another zone
build homes on the ruins
of a past civilization
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Violet clouds roll overhead
glare fills the air, clouds and sky
and the rain explodes in fire
Speedboats roar into shore, slice
into sand and more: into flesh and bone
drive the doctor and his men
casting two bodies into tall grass
flecks of blood, flakes of gore
make angels wings on the sand
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Dias eyes open to somber radiance of rain
amber veils of light, dazzling pain
she fights to rise and finds La-ha-ta
prone and dying
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A sailor, a hired man kneels on the beach
the doctor stands back, beyond reach
and says, hes no use to me dead
carry them both to the boats, head back
to the coast, theres a strong wind
blowing in from the open Gulf
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Roaring motors surround her drowning
out song and surf, on the horizon closing
fast clouds unfurl, emerald waves curl
colors of the sea knit blue and purl green
thunderheads mass as the boats veer
into the pass
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This is what it comes down to
all actions count for nothing
Is there no more she can do?
she wants to leap into the sea
Is she like the Old Man?
Has she lived past her destiny?
she leans down to kiss his cheek
when she hears him speak
Im very much among the living
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He rises as if freed from a dream
leaps into the stream
and in the moment terror flows
through her as the men scream
Why am I here among enemies?
she throws herself into the deep blue
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And in the storm theyre lost
a glimmering curve reveals all
battered shells translucent bouquet
and gentle rainfall at end of day
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ooThe setting sun casts out its netting
catching all large and small
sea breezes sing through a lyre of cypress
clouds of white ibis flow into darkness
as palms lift frayed wings to night
the suns last rays ignite the gulf:
fish mate with waves, streaming into light
the palm of eternity, visible
as it turns
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No one sees them hold tight
to aerial tightropes, roots of mangroves
rock with the rowdy surf
nest in coco plum, rest in banyan
and walk from limb to limb
gumbo limbo
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On the plains of memory
circus tents stand empty
canopies of the heart
wind-lifted wings reveal inner stages
storm winds rush in
shifting perspectives, currents of change
the circuitous circle
the three-ring circus:
birth, life, and death
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In a matter of time they will know
that we did survive
and now we must decide to go
back together into the fire
or stay together in separate harmony
or only you or only I
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You decide
what they decide
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The End
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Mary Clarks childhood
experiences on the Gulf Coast
of Florida inspired her to write
Children of Light.
After graduating from
Rutgers-Newark College of Arts
& Sciences, she moved to New
York City. She was the director
of the Poetry Festival at St.
Clements Episcopal Church,
and later executive director of
a neighborhood organization
and a community newspaper.
Her poetry has appeared in
The Archer, Lips, East River
Review, and Waterways:Poetry
in the Mainstream.
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A Ten Penny Players Publicationwww.tenpennyplayers.org
2012