The Eighth Ocean

Posted on 19 April 2010

Even though you sit on a couch
in a bungalow, your toes dance

like dolphins. You feel the tide
before you see the first wave

greet you with the effortless
grace of nature’s ceremony.

You gaze into a life that goes
somewhere, into an ocean

behind her eyes. Water fills
the room, tastes like tears

or birth. You should swim
away, panic, do anything,

but you relax, float in a lull.
You can breath here, you can

see. You sense mercy. You dive
beyond the map’s legend,

past everything you know,
into something more familiar.

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