Thursday, January 29, 2015

My Guardian Angel.


I live in the water and she lives in me.
She glides, I glide.
She grows, I grow.
Her waves form footprints along the shoreline as my blood forms rivers through my veins.

Her splash is her play.
I laugh and join in.

My tongue becomes salt.
My limbs become weak.

The ocean, she holds me.
I spread out my arms like a seagull flying and floating in blue.

The sun, she warms me.
Slowly.
Deliberately.

I feel my shoulders burn, brown, freckle.
Her love is thick; she refuses to let go.
She is like a mother sending her firstborn off to college.
Holding.
Clenching.
Hoping for the best in every breath, every extended hug.
Hope as deep as the ocean.
Hugs as warm as the sun.

The sun’s kiss is so gentle, like the brush of an angel’s wing.
She always watches over me.
She never leaves.
Just welcomes and warms.
My guardian angel.

My finger tips wither and wrinkle.
Yet all I can do is smile.

Everything is still when I am in the water.
Everything is right.




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