The sandy floor lies a foot below
where air and water meet.
And salty mist,
like an awkward first kiss,
lies hesitant, inbetween.

Slowly they touch,
and mix on collision,
to a drummer’s beat
and it’s rhythmic rhythm.
Faster, it goes,
As both move in waves.
And back in,
to mix again,
with the salty mist they crave.

I am the sea;
the endless, motionless,
living vastness
that surrounds and
engulfs…