I’m not traditionally a poet, but this past year I have found it hard to write anything except poetry. Odd. But I’m going with it. Here’s one I wrote after waking in the dead of moonlit night after a dream about the waves.
When the moon disappears behind night’s clouds
does the tidal pull release?
When the clouds clear and the moon shines bright
can we watch the tidal pull hold the ocean tight?
Are waves then the peak of a moon’s embrace
the spreading foam the afterglow
rips a lure to drag beloved waters
back to base lest they find their way to shore?
Just droplets left in the sand
sun comes up dries them out
now held in clouds
where moons disappear
in favour of the rain
that falls and joins the ocean play
waves and whirls touch tug release.
You’re the moon and I’m the water
if only for today
don’t drag us under hold us up
and let us dive with silver fish
face open to the sun
until the moon rears back again
then let us float on tide’s whim
till dawn reveals our sacred roles
in ocean place.