Travelers Welcome

Travelers Welcome

Sunday, May 11, 2014

ocean mother

by Linda M. Crate

you call to me,
ocean mother, i hear you
when i sleep
singing to me of corals
and the deepest of
hymns of blue and green
etched upon the surface
of your tongue
salted and ancient—
telling me of fishes and dolphins
sharks and crabs
octopus and squids,
and i can't understand the meaning
of the books you pour upon
my countenance
when you knock me over
insist to look deeper;
you tell me of ancient monsters and
of all the beauties found
glimmering deep
i want to swim within your waves,
and you call me to come closer
like any good child should;
but i can't help but fear your fury for you
dash rocks to pieces with your mighty
breath and have thrown men
to be carrion for all your
a bi-polar mother
beautiful yet repulsive—
you tell me that i can trust you,
like the shells you've washed upon the shore
or the sea turtles that made it to your
distant waves;
but i do not know if that's a truth or a lie
so i remain safe on the shore
longing for your embrace and loathing it all the same.

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