Water

The sea in soulful slide and suck
does wash upon earth’s carved and cradled breast,
in liquid sighs so somnolent and  patterned,
caressing kiss in salty slough surrendered;
that all may drink the draughts of offered life,
to see creation brought to birth and scattered.

In sylphic slow remembering each wave,
does crest upon the moment unto waiting death,
and hold its breath upon the edge of hollow, dusted air,
as gristled soil and rock do shake into new forms;
with water in an endless push and breathless pull,
does drive with hidden purpose; gifts to share.

Such oceanic surging writhes and rolls,
fluidic flow which seeks and soothes and heals,
a planetary sap in aqueous stealth of rivered, driven being,
wherein the source of life is held and given;
elixir in elusive flux fulfilled and held,
until it breaks upon the sand in drench of tears.

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About rosross

Editor, writer, poet.
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