I’m a signs and sigils kinda girl. Blame it on my Sandman love; Ma Nguni’s bone throwing up-bringing; a writers mind, either which way you cut it, my eyes are attuned to the clues placed upon my path. I’ve driven people (and most past partners) damn near mad with my affinity for reading into things – like a bruised knee marking imminent breakup. Laugh all you want, it’s been unerringly accurate.

Whilst in Hermaus on Tuesday, running errands before the next move (I’m finally settled in my little farm cottage – YAY!) I literally walked into this one ::

sea signs…

Mean anything to you? No, I don’t expect it would. But my memory flashed and a delighted laugh escaped between wry, upturning lips. The title of a Write Club prompt, where we took our lead from an old newspaper – and a horserace…

Harbour Gold

Out beyond backline and the pillars holding Poseidon’s rage at bay. Finally! I waited so long for this: the wind in my face, blowing tears to my eyes, hair against teeth and spray painted hands. Clasping the rail, I waited so long. Seagulls squawk with indignation as champagne spumes from a broken neck. You said my eyes sparkled like that when I was happy. And you have no idea how happy I am as the shutter slams to capture the moment between four neat lines.

dot dot. dot dash. dot. dot. dashhhhhh…

Out the safe harbour, the sun sets golden against a turquoise sky. If this were a postcard, I’d send it. Marked ‘happy’. Scrawled “wish you were here!”. I do. Wish. When nights are dark and Venus burns like a Valkyrie. I wish. I wish it was now. That moment. On a sleek white yacht. Or a romantic wooden barge. It wouldn’t matter which. Just get me aboard some ship with the ocean beneath and a moon trail as my map. Set free to find my fortune and follow fate’s grand quest. Sending news in a whiskey bottle, sealed tight with wax, kissed once for luck before it’s committed to the postal service sea.

On top of a cliff, towering into the midnight sky, rogue waves breaking on rough rock. You open the door, light flashes like a million lit candles, flaming. And I. I walk lightheaded, heart aglow, up a thousand steps to a house that’s finally home.