Fear of the Ocean
The day is pushed inside out
as the sea waves claw at me,
I prance and hop through the flushing,
a dummy stiffness overtaking me.
as the foam breathes me in.
The green
undertinge of my face deepen,
while the upswells of pink
in my cheeks,
compel me to keep going.
But I can’t stop
the lapping in my brain
trying to suck me over the edge.
The deep bruise of pinpricked
jelly fish scraping against my thighs.
My fear is a ghost eating her shadow,
a tapeworm of the psyche,
a hallucinating fever.
the click of Russian roulette.
How can I redeem my gamble?
The whole cornucopia
of barnacles and seaweed
trying to float into me.
I will be remade,
I will transmute
the chilled wind and suck
that long drawl between land
and pulse, a becalming
of holy water,
as the waves dance and sing.
I will swim finally,
and join a thousand lives.
I will sluice through what was once
a terror,
leaving a fraying ribbon
through the sand dunes.
I will reach in and grab my beating soul,
and be healed.
RM Sept. 2019