Moon Above, Ocean Within

Rough ripped mountains raise against me,
Herding me into this narrow path.
I cannot see away.
The only far I have is up.
I stare into the moon.

I know somewhere
Salty waves surge and roar
At the moon’s enticing.
My salty red tides crash and pound
Hurtling through my land-locked soul.

I have always wanted the sea,
Wanted cold, smooth sand between my toes,
Foam-filled waves to swirl around my ankles;
The haunting cry of a gull,
Hanging on the vast grey line where
Sky meets liquid,
And fog, alien, and close-clinging.

Wanted crabs, thumb-nail size,
And perfect, empty sand dollars;
Rubber textured sea weeds,
Drifting, or safely beached;
Sea shells, a-twist with form and color,
And tiny glass-graced diatoms,
Plankton-held, afloat.

Mountains, snow and dust
Now hold me, as fast as
Shell holds snail;
Longing for the sea.

© Caroline

  1. bluebee says:

    The sentiments beautifully expressed in this poem are very familiar

  2. Karla says:

    I forget sometimes that Mom is a poet, and a great poet at that. I really loved this piece.

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