The Sea and Me

Thu, 05/30/2013 - 18:47 -- s051533


United States
41° 52' 28.2972" N, 88° 7' 9.7536" W

We whip across the glassy sea
leaving a ripple of tumult behind us
My hair blows into my face, gets caught in my smile
But I push it away and stick my palm in the water
feeling for vegetation, fish; for life
I feel no seaweed, no scales, but life bursts out
as the molten mist soaks me, I long to plunge in
With a sharp flick of his wrist, the sails are
restrained, coiled, and knotted
We slow to a glaze
My hair stops blowing, the splashes become droplets
The sky is a light coral, the setting sun retreating beneath the wake
As stars begin to faintly envelop the scenery, we drift closer to shore
I recline, feel my ribs protrude up, my skin still shimmering with spray
I dunk each foot in the water, feeling the pull against my ankles
As if the water calls ‘Come back! Come back!’
Scooting forward, I grin slyly, setting my fingertips against the translucent water
Like the sun, I wish to join once more
I propel myself forward, flying into the sea!
Tens of thousands of years swirls around me
Of creatures and plants, shipwrecks untold
Treasures and history thousands years old
The sun’s rays barely still reach me, but I see where they cannot
The vast nothing that’s something, that holds what is forgot
My disturbance unnoticed, I’m such an insignificant part of the sea
But as much as I am a part of it, it is a part of me.


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