The Sea

The Sea speaks to me
I come from the Ocean
She is singing eternally
Her green light in my eyes
Her blue waves from
Which all life came

Water the symbol of life
And a certain gift
Of forgetfulness
Nothing is separate
In the sea of the universe
And it washes away the past

Like sand castles
And approaches a holy communion
Where we are all grains
Of sand in time, similar and temporary
There human beings can
Forget their occupations and limits

These pieces of identity
That are so fragile
Only a perfect freedom
In the womb of the Earth
Melting into water I am
No longer who I was

I become rhythms of ancient times
I become pleasure across
Horizons, one with the world
No longer incidental but infinite
The Sea speaks of the
Fabric of life, feminine and cyclic

The dehumanized part of me
Finds healing there, at last
The cities never showed me
Innocence, or true strength
Only man-made ignorance
I come from the Ocean

She sang to me of the true journey
Where death is the release
From a tormented mind
And suffering body
I wish to find the naked horizon
That no longer has a need
For words or anxiety
But can breath as a free spirit
And move without self-definition.

i held my breath for summers

Light chooses blue surf, pigeon-songs
we sailed until we found ourselves
far away in boats, sailing to nowhere

the ocean’s breeze had a lot to tell us
stabbing the pale skies for forever-afters
we lit our soul with ginger-tea
beneath canopies of star-lit nights
bare legs for the ends of July

beaches for the color of swelling tangerines
with kisses goodbye, but never enough
you were there too, those wispy weekends

full of melodies and cooper sunrise
Light chooses white sails, fragrances
curving like the shorelines, memories
of timelessness, or something beyond
the currents, after the blues, behind

veils, and the taste of your salts
my emotional body was left there
and my cheeks grow weary of so much light

as if sunburns could puncture through
soul mates that amounted to the memory
of women on the beach, bikinis of offering
the dusk hips and wet lips of another time…