Sea and Sky
THE SEA IS MY MOTHER, MY FATHER THE SKY . . .
Both are eternal, vast, each in their way.
I rise slowly yet inexorably from Mother's protective embrace.
I reach towards Father, life giver, mentor.
He draws me up as spiraling vapor that is phantom-like but possessing true substance.
Under the aegis of Sky, I harness my chariot to Sister Wind and travel Earth's four corners, showering my bounty upon her children.
They laud me; they thank me.
However, I look upward towards Father, downward towards Mother.
It is their approbation I seek. It is they who have given life and continued existence.
Praise must be directed accordingly.
Now you have done it CC. You have created a mystery for me to try to solve. I thought it would be so easy to merely search for the picture on TinEye [ FireFox]. I will easily find the name and artist of that amazing painting. How naive of me. 20 billion pictures later and still no results. Darn you, CC.
Beautiful encompassing words and the picture is perfect for them!
Thank you CoCo
Esse quam videri and millie210:
Thank you so much! I'm on FB and Photobucket. PM me, if interested.
Ok, sending you a PM CoCo.
Turbulent, erratic sea of waves there, Coco. Might be impossible to get approbation. Great picture, btw.
You may have a point there! I always appreciate your dropping in. Funny how art and poetry get a different response on FB. Dozens of replies.
C'est la guerre!
This has been posted before; it's a reflection of how I feel when, in my mind, I have returned to my roots: the mountains and sea, beneath the vastness of sky.
I feel an unfamiliar restlessness in my lower body.Too long have I been confined to my sickbed; my mind and heart coax me arise and gaze upon the world outside. It is no longer a matter of fighting long-entrenched despair. A power beyond all that is humanly possible -- even in the most extraordinary of circumstances -- seizes hold of atrophy and regenerates what was once officially declared dead.
In spite of myself, I arise from my imprisoning bed and, as if it were a completely normal occurrence, glide over to the French doors. I do not touch the handles, yet, in the manner of a dream, both doors open before me.
On the balcony, I gaze upon a magnificence of terrene beauty, so long unobserved, so long forgotten. My mind does not question the why, the wherefore, nor the how. My heart says I must follow whatever direction is put upon me.
I return to my room and look into the full-length mirror. I see only myself, no reflection of the room at all. Tall and erect, I stand as though in vibrant and athletic youth. Now, however, it is as an assured, mature man. Radiant. Smiling. Possessed, so it would seem, by an inner confidence emanating from my every pore.
Behind me I sense a warm and comforting presence. The aura surrounding me does not compete with my inner glow but interplays with it, creating a show of light, not of spectacular brilliance but of undulating waves of luminescence.
I am alive . . . once more. . . .
a shell by the sea
whispering a song to me
quiet let's listen
gaze upward again
osprey fish in it's talons
off to valhalla