Head sits upon her hands,
As she dreams of distant lands,
As she rests upon the jagged rock,
Taking in a mental stock,
Of hopes and dreams,
Of her heart’s whispers and screams,
Jagged rocks pressing into soft skin,
And icy salty spray drips from her fin,
Dreaming of something far away,
As distant as night at noon day,
As naked flesh is cut by stone,
And from her mortal heart comes stifled groan,
But this daughter of the sea,
Wishing for that which she can see,
Wishing to not be alone,
But for chance to walk upon earthen stone,
But she is the daughter,
Of the raging water,
Yet she wishes to be,
Able to leave the sea,
Yet she in her heart she longs,
In echoing desire strong,
To embrace that which she loves,
In as strange an union as fish and doves,
Yet her heart cries, and tries to beseech,
And it tries to reach,
That which burns like fire,
Deep in her desires,
To be sought and reachable,
In spite of seeming unreachable.
2 comments:
Wow, I love this one so much Steven!! I feel like getting out my brushes and trying to depict such longing and inner turmoil. It's a beautiful poem and speaks so deeply. Probably because I feel so connected to it, like somehow I'm her.
Keep up the good work!
Well someone requested this poem, and the subject was that I write about a piece of art she showed me. So it very well could be painted.
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