Wednesday, April 29, 2009

My World Used To be an Ocean.

My world used to be an ocean

with sea levels above the ground.

All I had was the surface of the sea,

and the sun above

reflecting the world,

and me.

Oh, those images on

the rippled sheet of sea,

these were scenes I won't forget

the reflective sailor I used to be.

In and on the sea

I saw the story

I wanted to tell

the world of sea men.

When my world was an ocean

there was the unchanging sea

wearing the face I put on that day.

And behind the horizon

there was always a mermaid

sitting alone


while singing a serenade

behind an embracing

sky and sea.

Then the sea levels dropped,

revealing some opaque soil

and solid grounds.

First was a light house

to tall for me to climb,

along with islands

whose language I don't speak.

Then the grounds were revealed, with their

inhabitants who speak so loud

and the mirror was concealed

by a sun blocking cloud.

And the few who take to the ocean

do so to swim, not to reflect

on the sheet of reflecting reality

they have just splashed.

The world of soil reflected nothing

of my face, but the sand did

get in to my eye.

As I trotted along the shore

of forgotten horizons

that shared a sun.

On dry land

the sun only burns

the face that looked up,

while searching for a clear plane

amidst the chaos of sand.

On the ground it's either human or fish,

and the sky and sea never embrace.

While the dropping sea levels

increase their pace.

And the sailor sits on a bench

under a shadow casting tree,

while with his shoes

he writes in the sand

a thought that will be washed away

by the tide of a low level sea.

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