Member-only story
Madre Océano
Apr 8, 2020
sand
soft and cold
gives underfoot
as i walk
through the palms
their leaves
a rain of whispers
mingling with
the breath of the ocean
my steps quicken
my skin craves
her caress
mi madre
she holds the ashes
of my mother
and grandmother
the journey of my
ancestors is
etched across her body
a tattoo across time
her waves remember
me, you, us, them
our small human hungers
are no match for her fullness
the hum of my voice
mingles with hers
sacred sounds at source
holy container
she and I are the same
except she never wonders (or cares)
if she’s too much
her wisdom is infinite
