The Sea
It is time to see the sea again.
I need to hear the rush, rush of waves on sand and stones and see
the chop, chop of green foamy waves and dream with feet feeling the ebb
of sand while standing in the foamy turn of the tide.
Ships like dots on the horizon burning in the haze scatter the sky and droplets in rock pools sparkle.
Sea and weed leaving a necklace on the sand and the salt and smell of
fish and the feel and shape of shiny shells. Singing birds and the
breath of a breeze in my hair.
I remember it then I long for it now.
Memories of past days melt into
the present of my dreams and the call of the sea wakens in me.
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