Awakening Too
Mrs. Pontieller, I believe had the right idea.
You can sacrifice all but not yourself,
Best to shed your clothes on the white, hot sand and walk slowly.
Footprints following you into the briny gulf.
Green- blue water slowly caressing your feet, then ankles, then calves, then thighs.
Waves pushing then pulling,
Sand sliding underfoot being pulled as you are.
Waves pounding, beating the shore.
Blood pounding in your breast, in your temple, in your soul.
Your eyes see the emptiness before you,
Your heart feels the emptiness behind you.
Your feet become entangled in green, slimy, ropelike things.
You stumble, you lurch but do not fall.
Your mind is entangled in flowery words, cagey elusive things.
They caught you ,changed you, destroyed you.,
They stumbled you, you are falling still!
Pushed, pulled bye waves as they reach your firm butt,
your fleshy waist, your copious breasts.
Pushed, pulled by wants, needs, desires.
Body responding to the undulating sea.
The Gulf teeming with life flashes of silver, crunching of shells harboring coelenterates.
Your mind void of thought, instant images blurry,
then crystal clear,
popping from one to the other,
sheltering delusions.
Floating, touching, floating,
your world now of dark water!
The end
SheilaM 03