The Mother is chanting to me
In long droning calls
Lulling me to feelings of Peace, and
Enchanting me with her
Hypnotic effect.
The Birds, the Sun, the Sand, and I--
All her children gathered round.
How could She be anywhere
But home?
OH! I wish to flow back
To Her again.
Becoming One.
Understanding Her vastness
And single-minded purpose.
She sings to me an ancient melody
Once remembered
Striking distant chords
Of hidden wisdom.
She haunts me with her laughter
And somewhere it strikes me
That her sounds are just
A reverberation of
My own ancient Muse.
Linda Maupin
Ocean view.
Seagulls diving.
Crabs crawl on the sand.
Water running down, falling... falling.
On the edge.
Downward staring.
Sand lies far below.
Seagull flying up, soaring... soaring.
In the air.
Wind whistling.
Water closing in.
As the water, I, falling... falling.
Body straight.
In the ocean.
Upward. Surfacing
As the seagull, I, soaring... soaring.
Water running down, falling... falling.
Crabs crawl on the sand.
Seagulls diving.
Ocean view.
© Deb
1998 - 2000
