The Day the Sea Spilt Over the Land

by Theresa Wood

The day the sea spilt over the land
Beth’s children were playing in the sand.
She saw the wave and began to run
trying to gather them into her arms.
And Po the ice-cream maker’s stall
with sweets and candy and nuts to sell
crumpled as if it was made of sand,
the day the sea spilt over the land.

The day the sea spilt over the land,
a wedding in the church was planned.
Sumi had put on her wedding gown
and all the guests were in town.
The tables were laid out in the sun,
families laughing and having fun
‘til the huge wave caught them unawares
and dragged them out to distant shores.

The day the sea spilt over the land
dawned fine and sunny with little wind.
Women at home were beginning their chores
with their children playing out of doors.
Many of their fathers were fishermen
already bringing the first catch in
when the mountain of water stopped the sun
and took their lives, nearly all of them.

The day the sea spilt over the land
was the day no-one ever could imagine.
Like a watercolour left out in a storm
by the end of the day all the picture was gone.
Like a sandcastle crumbling into the waves
thousands upon thousands lost their lives.
We hold our breath now in shock and wonder
for as simply as a cobweb, we are torn asunder.

© Theresa Wood 2005

Theresa lives in a village outside Rugby and has done one Writing Life assignment as well as having written about 5 stories or more for women’s magazines. She was published in one about 30 years ago and is determined to recapture that magic touch – if only she could put her finger on what it is! Meanwhile she’s content to write for the local parish magazine ‘Three Churches News’ in which this poem first appeared.
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