|
|||||||||||||||
|
|||||||||||||||
|
|
If I am the sum
of those I came from in my past where did I begin and how much longer will I recycle until I join the stars at last I think I have a clue I came from water whenever it rains I smell the air and feel cleansed whenever I spy the ocean or a lake I'm distracted and beckoned I think I might have had gills or fins or maybe breathed under water I could have been Poseidon's prodigal daughter or a long-ago denizen of some far-lost island I prefer pearls to gems I'm mesmerized by waves that coax and swell turquoise and blue-purples and greens are colors which please me above all others floating is effortless I'm as buoyant as a boat that never founders I focus in on the hush-crashing sounds of waves as if they were my internal compass combing the shifting shoreline for driftwood, shells, polished sea-glass and sun stones is an un-ending preoccupation of soulful solace in the evening as I sift off to dreams where the sands from beaches are counted instead of sheep the sea sends me to bed as she rocks the land in my head-- so satisfied I slip my moorings and my ship's sails set off to sleep.... legal copyright for this poem 2:01PM PST time/date stamped and also for this poet/author Melissa A. Howells and also for this legally copyrighted and registered site title Meloo Straight From Her Tilt-a-World Vote for this poem |
|