The sea dreams of
the unknown,
and endlessly,
in every hissing wave,
gorged with the lifeblood
of the world,
swollen with pure living,
burning down
around my feet,
but not vanquished,

only resting for the next
adventure in light
and sapphire
and doom.

What if we are unstoppable fire
resting between spectacles?
What if we are as powerful
as we ever wanted
to be—
heirs to majesty
even while we beg and
pretend to be small?

A pale denim sky unravels
into its dark
destiny.

A gathering of stars
sprinkle down
and remember
faraway legends
when they make their
soft landing
on the water.

Now I too am the pulse of the sea.
I too am the invisible multitude.
I too am the music of darkness—
hum of unquenchable vastness.

And just what if our
true state
is magnificence,
our true form, anything
we can imagine and
our lives are spread
across oceans
we separate into
centuries and eons
and now,

while we ride waves
of a love
we could never endure
in a breakable body?

Then would we
finally cherish
this tiny capsule of
living,
or even remember
the whispering fear
that sounded
so real
just a moment ago?


Patricia Joan Jones