i saw the sea
it was neither warm nor welcoming
when i sat inside my car
the artificial warmth stirring my clothes
the sea looked warm
with the cold sunlight
dancing across the waves
when i stood over the cliff
my dress flew out behind me
and i was struck silent
by the sheer weight of ocean
with its roaring voice
and rolling thunder that slept
beneath a silvery trident
it occasionally woke
to furiously slam against the rocks
bruised and broken
swirling foam like blood
but never ceasing to outstretch
its cold, icy fingers to me
hoarsely shouting
an age-old song of pain and rebirth
like a tired man
with hollows beneath his eyes
and blistered knuckles
wrapping his hands around amber peace in a glass
i simply sat by the grass over the sea
over this thing that held my mind
in its violent, sad eyes.
i shivered, because it was cold
i didn't know it would be so cold
and the sea looked up at me
with its heartbroken, gray eyes
and lay before me—
as if i held the trident
and the clouds were my crown.
so i sang the sea to sleep.
