Poetry
The Ocean Awaits
A surprise to my former self: here I live
The ocean is my home I’m not a mermaid but I abide just above the water level
My home floats and travels across the sea, the one outside my porthole
It’s blue, or green or grey depending on the tide and wind and what empties into the ocean from the rivers and whatever else
The water glistens with the sun or is lashed by rain or snow winter brings ice Summer turns it to a proximous swimming hole
Although some are frightened by the seals that flap nearby, the kelp that lurks and the knowledge that fish poop in this water we cool in it anyway
The navy beckoned my father and his brother the seas lured my husband, his father, uncle, children, nephew I am here, a fated onlooker dragged willingly
To a life that brings countless hours of watching storms on the sea beside me inhabiting lonely anchorages and walking not-so-distant shores
The ocean leads everywhere and nowhere the latter is what we prefer and so we go there
“I must be a mermaid, Rango. I have no fear of depths and a great fear of shallow living.” — Anais Nin
Join us, let’s play!
This poem was written in response to Poetry Playground Prompt #15:
