THE NIGHT OF SAN JUAN
San Juan is celebrated in Spain with bonfires on the beach. People take a picnic, eat together and then jump over the flames and splash in the waves. Your troubles are said to be consumed by the fire, some people write down what they wish to leave behind and throw the paper in the flames. Bathing in the sea is to drive away evil, bringing good luck for the rest of the year. Many people make a wish as they jump the waves. The date is closely linked to the Summer solstice, San Juan also being a celebration of Summer. The Pagan and Christian rituals both emphasise renewal with the combination of fire and water.
This poem describes a special evening of San Juan on a beach near Denia when the weather played its part in the magic.
NIGHT
OF SAN JUAN
Sifting
sand through fingers,
mind
floating, evening sun warms
milk
pale legs, summers first unveiling.
Propped
on boned elbow,
watch
busy children splashing,
castles
raising, wet skin glistening.
Mothers
taking turn, waist deep,
hot
bodies cool, dry salt prickly,
shielded
eyes scan scattered young.
Couples
walk the wave line,
arms
entwined like braided
fishing
line, innocents dreaming.
Sea
becalmed, stretched flat,
a
shimmering looking glass,
framed
with gentle arabesques.
Reverie
broken by spiked stings,
wind
whisked sand, beach obscured,
tangled
hair slapping, eyes weeping.
Towels
flap, striped chairs scatter
flipping
somersaults, beach gymnasts
chased
by papers, straw hats flying.
Families
retreat, huddling tight,
backs
turned to spiteful wind,
dragging
sand heavy bundles.
Skirt
tucked in knickers,
memory
of Welsh sea paddling,
skip
into surf to face angry gale.
Feet
sinking, sucked into sand,
braced
against streaming affrug,
speckled
legs bashed by foaming froth.
Greyness
creeps across crescent bay,
horizon
lost where mist meets sea,
waves
iced with whipped white.
Sky
lit with sparked brilliance,
sun
kindled hills escape wild fire as
forks
rip through clouds, striking sea.
Low
grumbling fights gusty shouts
echoing
round hill fringed shore,
eclipsed
by Juan, Son of Thunder.
Stand
alone, hands aloft, embracing,
mind
cleansed by storm and sea,
elemental
energy, body charging.
Night
of San Juan, air stills.
Feasts
savoured, bonfires flare,
jump
of flame and wave, whisper wishes.
Communion
complete,
San
Juan magic conjured,
leave
beach to fiesta pleasures.
© 2018 Jacqueline Knight Cotterill. All rights reserved.
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