The shore hummed with strangers,
voices rippling like wind across sand,
though I did not know why I had come.
The sea called to me,
its familiar pull thrumming in my chest.
I slipped beneath the surface,
cold silk folding around my skin.
A great white shadow rushed toward me –
too swift to flee.
Its jaws clamped, dragging me down,
but my spirit rose, luminous, untethered.
I watched my body vanish into the depths,
a hollow shell beneath the waves,
and I did not linger.
Instead, I rose higher
until I stood upon the surface of the sea.
The sky was alive with stars.
The water mirrored the heavens,
and I walked upon their reflection,
as if night had woven satin beneath my feet,
each step ringing softly in the quiet.
Then, on the shore,
a great mahogany door loomed.
Lions were carved in deep relief,
their eyes glinting in the moonlight.
The handle, a golden sun, warmed my hand,
and the air shivered as I stepped through.
The tunnel beyond was dark,
but clear to my eyes.
The ground was wet with memory –
puddles like mirrors from a long-forgotten rain
reflecting faint, silent echoes
of what once was.
I walked on.
A little girl’s shoe lay abandoned,
its buckle dulled with time.
Further on, a teddy bear,
fur matted with age,
waited where laughter had once fallen.
I lingered, wanting to gather it,
but I, too, moved forward,
leaving fragments in the shadows behind.
At the tunnel’s end,
a familiar house awaited me.
I stood outside,
watching through the glass
as a man grieved,
his shoulders bowed, eyes heavy with sorrow.
He sat alone at the table,
his dinner untouched.
I slipped into the empty chair,
my hair still dripping with seawater,
my breath adrift in dream.
He looked up –
and in his eyes
a flicker of recognition trembled,
a spark bridging what had been
and what could be.
Then I awoke,
carrying the weight of water,
of memory,
of starlight,
bridging the world of the living
with the world I had entered.
Your poetry always caresses the senses with a surrealistic hug. Nice one. 🙂
Relic, is this you? Hi. I remember your name is Tim. It’s been so long. You’re one of the first poets I met when I joined WC. Tim, thank you for your kind words. Coming from you, that means a lot, as your own work is masterful at creating those sensory dreamscapes.
It’s me:) Glad you’re here.
Oh, this is good!
Glad the journey resonated. Thank you.
Blimey Roma, I lie less than a mile from the sea and yet these words resonate louder than the incoming midnight tide. You are a mistress of the moon and sea – always leave that mahogany door open.
Thank you so much! “Mistress of the Moon and Sea” is high praise -I think I’ll claim that title! I also still love your description of the blood moon as “slut red.” I’m truly glad the words resonated louder than your midnight tide. And I promise, I’ll leave that mahogany door open for you.
Beautifully penned, Roma. Your imagery is so precise it immediately grabs my attention. Excellent write my friend. Appreciate you.
Damian
Thank you so much, Damian. I truly appreciate your kind words. I appreciate you too.
‘Then I awoke,
carrying the weight of water,
of memory,
of starlight,
bridging the world of the living
with the world I had entered.’
Your words have a sadness from core to display; I had to read them three times because at the first try I sighed, had to catch my breath; tragedy seemed to come from somewhere far, far out of reach. Such emotional words, could be real, true.
Hi emmagreen. Thank you so much for such a thoughtful response. 🌙 Your words mean a lot…I wrote this piece with that very sense of distance and weight in mind, like grief and memory carried from another realm. I’m touched it resonated with you.