*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/964747-She-Sings-Me-Into-Wild
by Shaara
Rated: E · Poetry · Nature · #964747
The waves are writhing monsters . . .
The waves are writhing monsters that call.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


As She Sings Us Into Wild



The blue-green surf
lies quietly sleeping.
Our sun throws off
its rippled shimmers
‘cross her midst like
flirty little flute songs
or smooth skimmed rocks.
I do not visit then.

The winds commence to stir;
white-bubbled froth rises.
The gentle currents bulge
in short wheezy bursts
which thirst for mutinies.
I stop my work to listen.
I notice. I ponder. I sigh,
but still, I do not go.

Then the winds grow stern.
They sweep, they frolic
with gusts of "whoosh" or "swish."
I stroll then, I jog, I run,
for I know, suspended inside
these winds of rebellion
lies the very song
I've set out to see.

Once there by her bosom,
I witness the wakening of
the rolling, roving twitches
as if taunted by rain drums.
For thus begins the Mother
of every wild wildness as
the sea frolics up a turmoil,
of writhing, snakelike rolls.

I feel the tremors of her boogie
through the bottom of unshod feet.
Across the way, fish spring up
bubbling gill-smiles of delight.
The turbulence is tickling them
Inside their liquidy fields of green.
Together we join inside the joy.
As the sea sings us into wild.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~




© Copyright 2005 Shaara (shaara at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Log in to Leave Feedback
Username:
Password: <Show>
Not a Member?
Signup right now, for free!
All accounts include:
*Bullet* FREE Email @Writing.Com!
*Bullet* FREE Portfolio Services!
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/964747-She-Sings-Me-Into-Wild