"I had to squint to find you there,my eyelashes broken ,
venetian blinds fluttering in the wind...
and then
there you were...
skinny legs and
yesterday's beard,
drenched in sloppy beerfoam spray,
the Ocean's last kiss ...
barefooted and climbing the dunes...
back to me,
the girl in the sandbox."
I stumbled on this tonight.
Remembered the very day I painted it.
The sudden claustophobia
of fat babies and tourists,
week-end surfers,
sun goddesses,
scrunching in closer to me,
running from the tide.
Remember
their make~shift fear
of the deep deep waters
rising...
tents and towels rolling,
sand buckets and sandwiches floating.
And tonight,
I know,
suddenly,
finally,
what it meant all along.
I'm not afraid of the murky water at all,
the knee splashing,
breath taking,
roll me under,
kiss the earth tide....
It's the low tide,
the quiet wave...
the waiting waters that scare me...
The Peace.
I'm afraid
that without
the struggle,
toes scrunched in the sand,
seaweed choking me,
undertow
stripping me
down to
skinned knees
and
breathless last moments,
Peace won't be all I dreamed of.
Then again,
I'm tired of dreaming...
I'm ready to live...
to Love...
And I don't have a lot of time to waste.
