I went through some of my old poetry journals and wanted to share a couple I wrote during my time spent in Cinque Terre.
where mountain and sea meet
pastel colored buildings stack
on top of eachother
each showing off
skirts, dresses, tshirts –
proof that people live here.
Even the boats here are all
a box of crayons in the marina.
Smells of seafood and salty sea
swirl like chalk amongst the relaxed
and suntanned bodies,
sunset before them.
This place is small – tiny even.
tiny villages amongst the vast sea
who ever thought to build here?
Thunder booms and people run to take shelter –
tourists with their plastic yellow ponchos
and shopkeepers below their awning.
The rain hits the green water and laps
at the side of colorful little boats.
The sun needs to shine.
There are stars in the sea.
They are called phosphorescent algae and they
when they get aggravated.
Waves lap at cragged rock
and in the dark you can see
tiny glittering glowing
like fireflies of the sea.
The sky above me also sparkles
and clouds are illuminated from behind
As I paddle, my hands create
millions of stars in the sea.
It’s the most incredible thing
I am swimming in the
at 2 am with stars above me
and below me
with 5 people I just met;
strangers turned into friends.
this is travel.
this is experience.
this is life.