La Belle Mer

May 1, 2003

I've painted the walls aqua
to remind me of ocean water
that I once experienced long ago.
I've planned to turn the room
into my own private beach
until the day comes when
I will walk outside and find
the ocean is close enough to hear.
The deep breathing of waves
that flow into and out from the shore
is a memory that I can summon at will.
One day, it will be the whole
of my daily experience.
The wet sand that clung to my skin
and the cleansing breezes of the night
keep me dreaming of going back to the sea.
I feel the heat of the sun,
I feel the sudden, unpredictable showers
of summer that came every day.
I remember all the sounds of water
as if they were recorded in my mind.
The breath of the ocean cleaned out
the negativity that covered me.
I sat in the sand and I cried for
my self and for my mother one night,
as I scrawled lyrics around me.
The morning that followed was
unmarred by the sadness I'd allowed
to get in the way of myself.
I felt no threats to my life,
to my future, or to my sanity.
I live in that memory now
in hopes of renewing that feeling.
I feel my energy crimped by sadness
of a past I cannot change
and a future I cannot see.
I'd breathe the ocean right into me
and let the passions flow out.
My life will open to the energy
I once accessed when I face
The Belle Mer once more.