Slow walk home

Take me to the shores with still winds, I walk bare footed on the body of your heart, softly i roam, on the slow walk home

lost at sea

holding my hand up to the light of the window

observing its mass
I am detached from form
deliberately held apart
from ownership

i have staggered to stand
without hands
to hold
yet the truth be told
I am repelled by hands 

even my own

I am driven down
deeply

plunged
by the tides of

my heart
which roam fearfully
untethered

 i am not of earth

but of water

the sea is my mother

she sways me out unto her raging tides

crashes my head repeatedly against rocks

in her attempt to crack open my shell

unwavering in her desire

i am washed upon foreign shores 

i cannot call home

 thus i walk ghostlike
pale

she smites this apathy with torrents of foam and froth
violent crescendo of power
chastises me savagely with storm

forces me under the belly of the whale

til i reach her womb of silence

here in the deep blue nothing
i see all

here i die

the moon

her sister

assailant
leads this dance
to the place of the great unknowing

yet the great sea hag repents

and i am to breathe again her salty air

and drink life
from her salty cup

the water seeps into my ears

soaks my brain in brine

squishes the laborious fruits 

that were born of thought

over and over 

I am enveloped
in froth

wave after wave washes me to the shore

and the open mouth of god