{"id":1727,"date":"2022-06-07T16:24:12","date_gmt":"2022-06-07T19:24:12","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/projects.upei.ca\/mais\/?page_id=1727"},"modified":"2022-06-07T16:30:32","modified_gmt":"2022-06-07T19:30:32","slug":"a-walk-on-the-edge-helena-m-ryan","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/projects.upei.ca\/mais\/a-walk-on-the-edge\/a-walk-on-the-edge-2022\/a-walk-on-the-edge-helena-m-ryan\/","title":{"rendered":"A Walk on the Edge \u2013\u00a0Helena M. Ryan"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<figure class=\"wp-block-embed is-type-video is-provider-youtube wp-block-embed-youtube wp-embed-aspect-16-9 wp-has-aspect-ratio\"><div class=\"wp-block-embed__wrapper\">\n<iframe loading=\"lazy\" title=\"A Walk On The Edge: Prince Edward Island\" width=\"750\" height=\"422\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/JwvkXBBUS6g?feature=oembed\" frameborder=\"0\" allow=\"accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture\" allowfullscreen><\/iframe>\n<\/div><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<div style=\"height:20px\" aria-hidden=\"true\" class=\"wp-block-spacer\"><\/div>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-text-align-left\" style=\"font-size:22px\"><strong>A Walk on the Edge: Prince Edward Island<\/strong><br>Helena M. Ryan<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Do I dare?&nbsp;<br>Do I dare?&nbsp;<br>Do I dare take a walk on the edge?&nbsp;<br>Do I step into that liminal space along the shoreline?&nbsp;<br>The gravitational sea of waves conjure memory moving through space and time.&nbsp;<br>It is then I discover, I become ever more, not ever less.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">I stand here at the edge of my Atlantic Island Worlds;&nbsp;<br>so far away, yet ever near.&nbsp;<br>My tale is a consistent mythos of saudade (Portuguese),&nbsp;<br>an extraordinary pensive mood of nostalgia and longing for my Atlantic Isle and sea.&nbsp;<br>Lasting near half a century,&nbsp;<br>I have been seeking my sapphire shores of a precious island jewel,&nbsp;<br>Saint Michael, an island known to be the tip of the Kingdom of Atlantis;<br>the enchanted Isle of Azores;<br>the isle where I was born.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Exalted, I found my Atlantic Sea,<br>on Prince Edward Island this late summer past.&nbsp;<br>But with the turn of the seasons\u2019 tides,&nbsp;<br>she has dramatically presented her mask of two faces.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br>I had deceived myself.&nbsp;<br>The ebb and flow of the water\u2019s edge does not always sing the ocean\u2019s song.&nbsp;<br>This is a cold-water island.&nbsp;<br>The sea does not always sound her music by her instrumental water.&nbsp;<br>The edge is frozen.&nbsp;<br>The song of this side of the Atlantic Sea is a howl, a whistle, a whisper,&nbsp;<br>sung by the cold north winds.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">I suffer the Parallax effect,&nbsp;<br>the apparent displacement of myself from the angle of my point of view.<br>On the edge, I realize distance measured is only a perceived mindset.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Music is an enchanting element,<br>felt before it is heard.&nbsp;<br>The potential to cross these frozen waters is real;&nbsp;<br>the scope of my imagination can take me anywhere.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">~<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">As my shamrock green scarf flails wildly,<br>it allows me to see the phantom wind.&nbsp;<br>My face, I cannot shield to the anti-meter rhythm of the winter air.&nbsp;<br>I decline the dance.<br>The wind does not fair at my back,&nbsp;<br>but dances around me,<br>whistling his merry winter tune.<br>I am against the raging tempest that binds me here.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Wind, you cannot sweep me off my feet,&nbsp;<br>I fear not your taunts.&nbsp;<br>I am not lost;&nbsp;<br>my roots command it so.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">The paradise isle lures me;&nbsp;<br>it haunts me.<br>The water spirit swims in the depths of the sea,<br>to bestow a boon for me.<br>Salty one, sorceress of delusions;<br>conjure your spell.<br>I know what lies beyond.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">I faintly hear the salty sorceress\u2019 call behind the wind.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">~<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">On the edge, I am an imperial scepter.<br>Prince Edward lies down his royal white cloak,<br>granting passage out to sea.<br>The Harbour Passage to the Northumberland Straight is narrow;<br>Feeling unsteady to tack against the wind,<br>I fix my eyes on the horizon,<br>and orient myself to the Earth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Nautical Prince Edward, your adulation fools me, but only once.<br>The sailboats are on the hard.&nbsp;<br>The harbour\u2019s edge is decorated in mosaic patterns of solid ice blocks.<br>Fearing death may come,<br>you have anchored the mariners on Prince Edward Island,&nbsp;<br>your mistress on the sea.<br>Prince Edward, pledge to never wed,&nbsp;<br>only bed the maiden,&nbsp;<br>lest you leave behind the Widow\u2019s peak to lament in piteous wailing.&nbsp;<br>Prince Edward, I can only ever remain your mistress;&nbsp;<br>I am wed to another on the continent\u2019s Superior shores;&nbsp;<br>And above all rank, my true love will always be Saint Michael.&nbsp;<br>In awe, the deity of the sea calls out to me:<br>Come to me, you are an itinerant of the sea.<br>Am I myth, or destiny?&nbsp;<br>You are my daughter, said she.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Who am I?&nbsp;<br>I am not one,&nbsp;<br>but many identities of my inherent and my external reality.<br>I am enigmatic in my islandness.<br>Is it the enchantment from the realm of the past which fights the power of time?<br>A child of the sea, I am Azoreana, from a true mystical isle of sleeping volcanos, boiling springs in mystic grounds, and surrounded by the dangers of the sea.&nbsp;<br>I\u2019ve come from the depths of the Northern Forest of Canada,<br>a continent where I float amongst my internal divided essence;&nbsp;<br>the consequence of being nourished by a bohemian nation of nations.&nbsp;<br><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">I keep my eyes on my blue heaven.<br>Saint Michael battle for me.&nbsp;<br>Hawk talons swoop down,<br>carry me over the threshold,&nbsp;<br>through the portal of the sea.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\"><br>Dried thistle with their prickly spines bare,&nbsp;<br>echo the mood, here.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br>Highland\u2019s regal hero blossoms my battle cries.<br>Blazing canons perched on the mound,<br>aim to conquer my frozen hell, in this cold war.<br><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Epekwitk (\u201cAbegweit\u201d), cradle me in your cozy nook.&nbsp;<br>My footing clings to your frozen red edge;&nbsp;<br>a tinted red seafoam,&nbsp;<br>now a pumice stone of ice.<br>From your fire-red soil, I feel your warmth.&nbsp;<br>We are kindred elemental spirits of fire,<br>forged under the blazing sun.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Lit by the beacon of hope,<br>March is at the edge of the white sun season,&nbsp;<br>springing forward an extra hour of evening light,&nbsp;<br>when the sun will kiss the sea, once more.&nbsp;<br>Saint Michael, Prince Edward, kindred blood, my maple abode;<br>Lucky clover of my heart divine,&nbsp;<br>for whose love I could not exist.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">In this cradled Garden of Eden,&nbsp;<br>the tree of knowledge is bare of her foliage and fruit of temptation.<br>Newton\u2019s Laws of motion and gravity forced the apple of silence,&nbsp;<br>which teaches one the gift of fruitful thoughts.&nbsp;<br>You will not be bare forever.<br>Voices linger; the seasons change.<br>Your hardened heart on the surface will begin to slowly melt away.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">These islands live by the creed of the Atlantic Ocean.&nbsp;<br>Only under a particular light or hue, can the obscure be visible.&nbsp;<br>The aura of these two islands can become invisible by their own radiant beauty.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Soon, I will return home to the continent from these frozen shores.<br>Memories will rise with the swell of the tide and the roar of the ocean.&nbsp;<br>The Atlantic Sea will sing her song, once again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">My heart will cleave to these distant islands,\u00a0<br>to map the future for all that is to come \u23af<br>a walk on the edge,\u00a0<br>I am an islander, ever more.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<hr class=\"wp-block-separator\" \/>\n\n\n\n<p style=\"font-size:24px\"><strong>Song: A Walk on the Edge\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">I stand here at the edge of my Atlantic Worlds<br>You\u2019re far away, so far away.<br>But I\u2019m ever near your sapphire shore,<br>Against the raging tempest that binds me here.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Prince Edward lie down your royal white cloak.<br>Grant me passage to the open sea.&nbsp;<br>Saint Michael battle this frozen hell for me,<br>the sea for me, calls out to me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Sing to thee, I sing to thee.<br>Portal of the sea; on my distant shore.<br>My heart anchors to the Atlantic edge.&nbsp;<br>I\u2019m an islander, ever more.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">I walk on the edge. A walk on the edge,<br>your frozen red, frozen red,<br>Walk on the edge.&nbsp;<br>I sing to thee, to melt the sea.<br>She calls out to me, calls out to me,<br>across the sea.<br><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Ladai ladai, A walk on the edge,&nbsp;<br>walk on the edge, your frozen red.<br>Walk on the edge, your frozen red.<br>I sing to thee, to melt the sea.&nbsp;<br><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Tinted red seafoam,&nbsp;<br>now a pumice stone of ice.<br>I\u2019ll sing to you, spirit fire,<br>Cradle me, laree lalee.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br>I\u2019ll sing to you,&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Deity of delusions, salty one.&nbsp;<br>Sorceress of longing,<br>Conjure your spell,<br>Atlantis tips; sun kiss the sea.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Laree lalee, I walk on the edge,&nbsp;<br>a walk on the edge, your frozen red.&nbsp;<br>Walk on the edge, your frozen red.<br>I sing to thee, to melt the sea.<br>Atlantic Sea, she calls to me.<br><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Memories, haunting memories;&nbsp;<br>walk on the edge, I walk on the edge,&nbsp;<br>Atlantic Sea, calls out to me,&nbsp;<br>calls out to me, she calls to me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">A walk on the edge, walk on the edge.<br>Your frozen red. Your frozen red.<br>I sing to thee, to melt the sea.<br>Sorceress call to me, she calls to me.<br>She calls to me, Atlantic creed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">I walk on the edge, a walk on the edge.<br>Your frozen red. Your frozen red,<br>Walk on the edge.&nbsp;<br>I sing to thee, to melt the sea.<br>She calls out to me, calls out to me.<br>Now where\u2019s my home; true home to be.&nbsp;<br>Where is my home, Atlantic Sea.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<div style=\"height:40px\" aria-hidden=\"true\" class=\"wp-block-spacer\"><\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>A Walk on the Edge: Prince Edward IslandHelena M. Ryan Do I dare?&nbsp;Do I dare?&nbsp;Do I dare take a walk on the edge?&nbsp;Do I step into that liminal space along the shoreline?&nbsp;The gravitational sea of waves conjure memory moving through space and time.&nbsp;It is then I discover, I become ever [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":107,"featured_media":0,"parent":1666,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"tags":[],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/projects.upei.ca\/mais\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1727"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/projects.upei.ca\/mais\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/projects.upei.ca\/mais\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/projects.upei.ca\/mais\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/107"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/projects.upei.ca\/mais\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1727"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/projects.upei.ca\/mais\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1727\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1733,"href":"https:\/\/projects.upei.ca\/mais\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1727\/revisions\/1733"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/projects.upei.ca\/mais\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1666"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/projects.upei.ca\/mais\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1727"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/projects.upei.ca\/mais\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1727"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}