This Is The Ocean

This is the ocean

this is me

The brine churn of birds,
The cool erosion polishing the foamy waves,
Fogged horizon,
The sun blistering through the clouds.

I watch and let my mind float and drift and

sink

into the cold,
The lost valleys,
Silent canyons and ghostly plains,
And bottomless trenches,
Gathering all our bones.

Rain on the mountains,
Snow on the sea,
This is you

this is me

Braided rivers.

Are your headwaters the Alpine cataracts?
Or the muddy flood plains of India?
The Rockies green trickle creeks?
Or the blood flow of the Mississippi?
What dark icebergs weigh on you?
What convoys of ghost ships,
Sail your uncharted currents?
What monsters

troll

The surf of your laugh,
You flash in the sunlight and dance in the wind,
And amaze me.

I taste the salt

on your cool lips.