It's the first week of March and I am yearning for the warm yellow sun and crystal clear blue waters of the Bahamian Islands. Not the Nassau-cruiseship-strawmarket-touristy Bahamas, but the remote, unfettered islands of the Abacos. Paradoxically wild and refined, hedonistic and spiritual -- the Abacos possess a raw beauty woven of warm tropical breezes, palm trees, white sand, blue seas, pink hibiscus and welcoming people. I miss very much the women that gathered there at the end of winter -- to reflect, to rest, to connect, to share, to renew. I miss the dreams that only came in nights so silent. I crave the long, unscheduled days that drew out the heart's desires. I humbly seek to return. An Abaco Prayer
Island spirit
hoist your turquoise night
and spread her soft upon
our pillows
late this eve,
this night in Abaco
Let your spirit child
hair ribbons tethered
by sea shells
and cobalt stars
dance beside seas of night indigo
and across our dreams
Rock us gentle spirit in our beds
to the cradle rhythm
of the azure seas;
let us hear her breathing
rise and fall
distant ‘cross the dunes
Bathe us in warm breezes
and deep, cerulean pools
where crimson flowers
and yellow petals
float in the wake
of our finger traces
Let us dream, island spirit
of viridian palms
gold drenched by the
Abaco sun, sweet on its fruit
and on our lips,
And of coral-laced froth
at the ocean’s edge
where the surf pulls us
to our knees
and we surrender our
souls’ desires
in whispers to the tide
Let us drift now, spirit, sleeping,
buoyed by the arms of your blue,
blue waters
And forever hold our hearts
in these turquoise nights
and emerald days
of Abaco.
Karen Corrigan , Treasure Cay 2002
