One Poem by Carol Tahir

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.