no bounds

a quatern
  
and sea said there were no bounds to the wet  
that stretched across the shoulders of her calm.  
her raininess was meant to be a balm  
for circumstance that caused lost souls to fret  
        
on sinking sand.  i smelled my own near death  
and sea said there were no bounds to the sands  
of time; no matter where on earth i land  
no sinking sand would rob me of my breath.  
   
yet unconsoled, i dreamed of pregnant skies  
and galaxies i hoped one day to find  
and sea said there were no bounds to the winds  
born deep within her womb, on which to fly  
   
from shadowy purviews where spirits cloy.  
wet, sinking sands and winds that knew no bounds  
would usher me beyond where cares confound  
and sea said there were no bounds to such joy.  
   
© Copyright 2019 April 26  
by Clyve A. Bowen♫