Tranquility

Tranquility

It reminded me of my Mother,
shore hills,
push and pull,
clouded water,
an almost meet.

No longer
do I want to drag me
over dehydration as foundation,
don't know why I believed
there was only one way
to enjoy the waves.

Connection can sink back now,
on a slack tide, under New Moon -
I have so much left to learn
about limpets, about cuttle-backs.
I intend to pack a book,
sandwich and a flask.

Out there, beyond Drakes Island
where plumes of compass jellyfish
march in armied lines.
I'll picture you on a rock,
throwing pebbles at the tides.

And in turn I'll abandon ideas of calm,
clothes peeled, layers of warmth,
heel on heel barefoot
- hit pebbles, hit glass
to meet a basin,
to meet the well.

Expand into Tranquility -
challenge,
chilled, and again
I meet my mother
where the best of light
always seems to find her face.