If
If I bend, stoop and reach
At the sound of the cold North wind
And the rugged and raging sea
Harmonizing with the creak
Of my wrinkled, old, boney knees
A symphony of natural beauty
Stirs my soul as I search
For treasure left lying along the shore
For me
For me
For me
If the curve of my back is a bold black cleft
Or more like a twisted ampersand
And my heart beat slows
At the sight of gifts the generous sea has left
I wonder then
And now if
I raise the conch to my ear to hear
WIll the answers pour out
Or just sediment, sand and dirt
Will it whisper the secrets
I have walked here to find
Resting in windswept wet
And dry, brittle sand
Will it answer my questions
One at a time
Simple and clear
Plain for this wanderer
In search
Of clarity, comfort, forgiveness and
Peace
Or when the shell
Is pressed cold to my cheek
Will I hear only hauntingly
Monotone whispers
Familiar yet coded
That sound like the sea
A white noise of shushing and whooshing
Moans from the earth, like a chant from the monks
Worshipping high in the hills
And if that’s all that enters my soul
By way of my cold pink ear
The comfort of a lullaby fresh from the
Mouth of the ocean floor
That is more than enough
For me
For me
For me
It is miracle
Marvelous
Mystery
And I am now no longer in need
I want nothing, nothing
More
I have heard peace be with you
From the lips of the Sea.
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Joining Jennifer Dukes Lee for #tellhisstory and Emily for #imperfectprose