Prickly morning sun strings up
the hair on her arms as she gazes,
watching the waves bobble and weave and listening
to their dead seashells and shellfish;
ricketing and momentarily floating.
For a moment, her heart is the ocean.
Always beating and providing life without
knowing why. She sighs and begins to forget she is lost--
The synthetic shores of everyday life at her backfoot,
the burning sand ridden with childhood memories.
She slowly allows it to dissapear
and recaptures a piece of her self
in return;
Belonging to this ocean as much she does the sky it reflects.
Calling, lamenting her name without a word, the ocean
lullabies her soothing sighs, falling rythmatically now--
Raindrops disinter the clouds and tickle the rythm
of her pulse. Soft, soft backing instrument to her final
calling. There is no need to look around again;
There is no guard in sight. The prickly sunshine fades
To ruthless cold air and she walks forward, mouth agape
and ready
For the ocean to swallow her and recapture her, entombed,
enwombed forever more.
