Coming Back to Big Sur — A Poem

Big Sur — by Lalit Kumar

A summer dream, to run down

Narrow, winding, coastal Highway 1.

Don’t hurry to make love, rather observe

Rising waves carried from ocean deep,

Caress the rugged shore of Big Sur passionately, in rhythmic precision.

Same exact spot where we last made love,

Looking at the tired, roiling sea break upon its thirsty shore.

I tasted your lips within seventeen-mile drive,

I remember the taste of salt and sand,

I remember the humid and craggy Pebble beach.

I reach Bixby Canyon Bridge, the wild beauty,

California Dreaming ringing in my ear

And I think of Kerouac and Miller, loci of inspiration,

And Big Sur crystallizes for me in sharp relief,

Santa Lucia Mountains rise precipitously from the Pacific.

This time I am in no hurry to return home.

I come to see the inlands’ redwoods, conifers, sycamores

I watch the mighty condors in the sky, gulls on the boulders

I have come to drink the intoxicating air

Pining for my daydream to manifest in the enchanting Big Sur.

P.S. — This poem is taken from the recently published book Yosemite of My Heart