Mothersea

Drawn to the ocean
I walk along this crescent beach
stopping to nudge a starfish
or overturn a shell,
the briny sealife smell a primal pull.
I think of evolution, and the womb.
I feel full with life.

I first came to this beach
in a childhood dream.
I walked along this strip of sand
surrounded by portentous cliffs, and
there was no escape
when the huge sea reached up to take me.
Today I feel no fear. I'm grown
and can take care of myself here.

Now the rhythm of the water's surge and ebb
is broken
by a sneaker wave
heaving toward me darkly.
I stumble up a great black rock,
grasping at gritty crags,
pulling myself from the ocean's reach.
The sneaker wave takes the beach,
crashes on rocks below my feet,
splashes, salty, over me.

Gasping, I wait for the wave's retreat,
jump from the rock
and run up the beach
cold and wet and foolish.

written ca. 1991