Rainfall ‘98
Falling in an Atlantean deluge
from a sky as malevolently dark
as the sun-deprived skin
of the ocean’s floor;
Noah’s ancient waters coming full circle,
drowning the world
in slow thunder
and dark majesty,
rending trunks of oaks and elms
as our white faces swam in lightless
space behind rippling windows,
waiting
for the call of the sun.
The Whale’s Song
Pawing through the waves,
I feel the ocean’s call:
mild and meek,
deep with mystique.
I run away back to land.
The ocean sings and whispers,
a mother to her lover.
I put in one paw,
distinctly I saw
the joy I’d found.
I dove in through its glass,
trading fur for flippers.
My voice sounds so calm,
it flows like a song
seeping through the sea.
And through the misty dark
I travel like a bubble.
The creatures I see
move so fantastically.
I am reborn with the tide.
And now the land is gone--
in the past, forgotten.
I am the sea, and the sea is what
I have waited for.
