Born of water - 1

Born of water,
the sound of my voice,
sang beneath the currents,
like a river bed’s grinding gravel.

A long-way-off ocean roared in my ears.

The tears of the seaways wept for mercy,
their sorrows, risen out of the storm troughs,
shrieked at me through the spindrift.

Wind on the waves drove ragged rain,
fierce and salted in my face.

I was abandoned in my imagined shipwreck.

© BH, 2023

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We are mostly water and, truth to tell, carry the primeval oceans in our cells. This is the first part of a longer, three-part poem, Born of water.

The three, as if you couldn't guess, are: Born of water -1 -  Born of water -2 - Born of water - 3