The waves and the shore
I am the shore, the stony shore,
Rocky, hardened by time.
You, my children, the waves
The ever-crashing, bashing, smashing waves.
The infinite ocean of your possibilities leads as far as the eye can see
Sometimes grey and stormy,
Sometimes calm and blue
Ever changing, ever changing.
Sometimes throwing up seaweed, slimy green and brown
Decorating the mothershore in stinky stickiness.
You wear down my edges, weathering my sharp corners,
Rounding me into something more beautiful and enduring.
Sometimes the storm winds sing so loud I cannot hear my own thoughts,
You pound so insistently I cannot feel my own body
I am storm tossed, wind blown, wave washed, all at sea.
But the tide turns, the waves retreat to play on other shores,
I am still here, and all I can hear is the echo of your roar
Haunting my ears, filling the spaces between my thoughts.
Broken into smaller pebbles, here I lie.
And wait for you,
The tide will turn and back you come to the mothersoul
Seashell souls held close to my stony breast.