Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Afraid of her waves, I steer into the trees, fashion a humble nest of shattered oars n’ leaves. Teach oldies to the birds, the mice, the harmonies, and squander afternoons hiding from the breeze. Afraid of her waves, I fly toward the heavens to roam with pilgrims crying rivers and oceans. I listen to their stories of ruin n’ misfortune. to discover gods can be both frightened n’ broken. Afraid of her waves, I crash into the moon, bug the man who lives inside— he’s a bit of a recluse— with questions surrounding how the ocean moves. He bellies, how my head aches! But I know it's just a bruise. Afraid of her waves, I spin off seven rings, sling-shot out this galaxy on black n’ speckled wings, tumble through a universe where no n’ every-thing look so eerily the same, my little boat begins to sing. Afraid of her waves, I row straight into Hell, where waves crumble down, where boats sail themselves. At long last, I scale her, nearly gobbled by her swell! Proudly peek over my shoulder, and find the sea stands ever still.
0
Dec 27, 2019
Dec 27, 2019 at 2:48 PM UTC
The Stillness of the Sea
Afraid of her waves, I steer into the trees, fashion a humble nest of shattered oars n’ leaves. Teach oldies to the birds, the mice, the harmonies, and squander afternoons hiding from the breeze. Afraid of her waves, I fly toward the heavens to roam with pilgrims crying rivers and oceans. I listen to their stories of ruin n’ misfortune. to discover gods can be both frightened n’ broken. Afraid of her waves, I crash into the moon, bug the man who lives inside— he’s a bit of a recluse— with questions surrounding how the ocean moves. He bellies, how my head aches! But I know it's just a bruise. Afraid of her waves, I spin off seven rings, sling-shot out this galaxy on black n’ speckled wings, tumble through a universe where no n’ every-thing look so eerily the same, my little boat begins to sing. Afraid of her waves, I row straight into Hell, where waves crumble down, where boats sail themselves. At long last, I scale her, nearly gobbled by her swell! Proudly peek over my shoulder, and find the sea stands ever still.
Written by
24/M/Austin, Texas
Dec 27, 2019
Dec 27, 2019 at 2:48 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem