Wednesday, March 12, 2025

Woven

I look out to the ocean and see

A finely woven tapestry of

The sheerest gauze overlaid with

Beaded organza winking under the sun

Waves of lace fluttering at my toes.


She beckons to me in a (quiet, soothing) roar

To become one with her composition.

I, who have known many fabrics, but am made of

Flesh and blood and bones and breath.

But also I am filled with her.


My skin prickles under the winds behest

And yearns for her to enfold me.

To fill my pockets with precious stones and

Welcome the embrace of her depths

Like a child returning to her mother's bosom.

No comments:

Post a Comment