I used to have a woodworking shop in the Schoonmaker Building,

 

a large building where they constructed the Liberty ships of WWII.

 

It was located

 

at the foot of Spring Street in Sausalito, right next to the bay.

 

One night, in the month of December, after working late

 

I locked up my shop and went out to get in my car and drive home

 

As I stood outside my car

 

I heard water running

 

It had not rained in quite a while

 

and I wondered where it could be coming from

 

 

After a short while trying to locate the sound,

 

I realized it was coming through the sewer grating

 

The water was running down the hill from above the shop

 

This was why it had been called 'Spring Street'

 

The creek had been paved over and now was

 

flowing underneath the road

 

It was covered over fifty years ago

 

when they built the roads and streets

 

Everyone has forgotten about it

 

This discovery

 

     made me very very happy

 

and I wrote this poem    

     

         

 

 

 

 

           What I Call My Heart            

 

 

 

Underneath the hillside

 

Buried now

 

        under the man-made mound of earth

 

  Through the grating

 

Last night

 

Late

 

I heard the waters singing

 

at the foot of Spring Street

 

 

Others heard this long ago

 

the looked at the waters

 

while walking along a creek bank

 

edged with trees and rocks and small insects and animals

 

the waters sparkling in the sunlight

 

since then

 

So much has gone on

 

So much is piled up

 

But the ancient springs

 

 do not go dry

 

Nor do the eternal voices

 

cease  

 

their praising

 

 

Underneath the construction of a life

 

   foundations lie buried like treasure

 

And in forgotten channels

 

   the waters of our lives

 

   still find their course

 

This virgin spring

 

cries out like a child

 

wet- eyed

 

ready for anything

 

And memory

 

calls out with the waters

 

 

 

We have forgotten so much

 

Above the sky is infinity

 

and

 

Here too

 

there is no end

 

to the mystery

 

 

I heard the waters singing

 

at the foot of Spring Street

 

with the stars and night all joined

 

The hill like a gentle Mother

 

gently showing her child

 

Now I know

 

This is what I call

 

my heart