How Many Waves Away
By Joergen Ostensen
3.27.19
I wrote this poem thinking about the boat ride back from Robben Island. As the boat slowly approached Cape Town's harbor, I kept looking back at the former prison; every wave became a reminder of how far away the island is from everything wonderful about life. South Africa's government kept political prisoners there from 1961 to 1991; among them was Nelson Mandela, who spent 18 of his 27 years in prison on the island.
Robben Island
Receding into the calm
Yellow glare of a setting sun
Receding into the clouds
That mask the infinite horizon.
Robben Island
And I can feel every wave
As this boat climbs and falls
Up and down
Up and down
Up and down
Slowly, gradually
Pitching forward further and further
With each passing wave.
Robben Island
Fading slowly
Less and less distinct
With each passing moment
Almost gone now
As the horizon haze
Prepares to erase the island from view.
Robben Island
And it's too windy to cry
As I just can't look away
While the mainland mountain looms
Its shadow dancing on my back
As every passing moment
Burns in my heart
Every passing moment
As the boat continues
Further and further and further away.
Robben Island
How far out in the middle of nothing
As the sun keeps falling
And each wave is a reminder of
How many waves away the island is
From the shadow mountain shore
How many waves away
From comrades, rallies, revolutions
How many waves away
From mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers
How many waves away
From smiles, hugs, dinner tables, bedtime stories
How many waves away
From love
How many waves away
From freedom
How many waves away
From life.
Robben Island
How many waves away
Now
As it begins to disappear
Slowly vanishing from view
Enveloped in the end of day horizon haze
Swallowed now into the knee-buckling infinity that lies beyond.