While I was waiting to be born,
suspended in my private sea
I heard the voices of the deep
recount their stories, sing and weep,
and felt that I was not alone,
that somewhere far beyond the dream
in rosy waters of the pear-shaped
chamber guarding me from harm,
there flowed a deeper, vaster tide
of memory and time-to-be,
that rocked me in its murmuring
and fathomless maternity,
inviting me to utter my first sounds,
attempt life's clumsy dance…
When I blinked into the light
I listened for my spirit-guides,
dimly sensing presences
beyond glass panes
impeding vision…
sensed them waiting patiently
somewhere in the blur of bay,
their voices travelling through ether,
gentle, rhythmic: "Breathe with me…
The world we know
is deeper than all memory,
immense and free…
We... are oceanids… cetacean…
the sea's imagination…"
Imagination and the Sea
© Copyright: Jena Woodhouse, 2004
Свидетельство о публикации №104092000166
Свидетельство о публикации №104092000166
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