A Mother’s Comfort
There
are no gentle sighs of the Pacific Ocean.
I
am pulled like gravity to sea air,
My
lips taste the soul of the sea.
The
thunderous waves pounding rock
and
shell to ecru coarse grain with
an
age old rhythmic motion.
She
is home to me. My first mother.
A
throbbing rolling comfort of salt , and liquid floatation.
I
am commanded to the sea with each moon tide and tidal flow.
My
heart beats in sync with each rumbling undulations.
Like
a white stallion frothing with foam,
She
churns up the sea floor.
and
shares the beauty of her children with me ,
tossing
them at my feet.
Under
her watchful eye
I
throw the children of the sea
back
to her, their
mother
for
her to share with me another time.
Carol Tahir lives in a beautiful historical valley in Southern California. Where she
writes and paints to feed her creative juices. Previous works have been
published in anthologies , online journals , blog ( here at
Lothlorian) and recently
one was chosen as a 24 k gold winner for an upcoming anthology.
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