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Apr 2017
The power of the sea is air born,
its force snapping in my face.

Invisible waves whipping through 4 layers of clothes.

Thrashing Pines.
Shearing limbs.
Natural pruning.

Solitary phantom bashing cliffsides,
spinning leaves, contagious dervish dances overtaking the mountain.

A thousand Rumi letters taken flight
burning atoms, spilling longing.


Moaning captains, ship less,
praying for strength,
fighting night swells,

the power of the sea is swirling sky
kidnapping forest litter
no ransom
an icy thief
cracking lips
piercing skin

howling like the ache
of 80 million prisoners
who wish to be as free
as it sounds.

The endless flying whooshing
happening beyond walls,
sloping through the curiosity of
an entire world,

penetrating dreams like a cosmic ghost.
Styles 12
Written by
Styles 12  42/M
(42/M)   
228
 
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