You let its winds sweep
and tussle your tousles
of sunray-bathed tresses.
Golden sand beaches
surrounded your island
solidifying in your mind
the inconceivable kernel
of an idea:
that this would be forever.
Two were one,
living on modest means,
but you had everything
needed to smile:
someone else’s eyes
so to see
your own reflection
‘til the sun stopped shining.
You’d seen it:
the sea of love.
More than see,
you lived it,
among and within it.
All had been well
until hell below quaked.
The serene sea swelled
while pillars of trust
were crumbled and felled.
Columns bent, snapped,
after seasons spent
constructing those towers
with thousands of hours
of meaningful trust.
No longer did this land
encircled by sea
seem fit to stay;
you were told you must
“go on, go, go away.”
Snapping, oh, snapping
did those pillars undergo
when those poisonous words
were scornfully spoke.
You in sorrow,
Such sorrow,
When you were thrown aside;
Lost asunder
In a tsunami sea unknown
for the first time since
so long ago.
Pushed in
an undesirable direction,
pounded by
relentless waves of change.
The waters dearly wanted
to hold you down,
but you kept your head up
rather than drown.
You washed ashore
in a land alone.
The sun had shone
so brightly before
you were swept astrewn
from where once was home.
Were God above
you would have prayed
on bloodied knees,
for days and weeks,
just for a chance
to feel that old sun
soaking your bones.
My dear,
you fight seeing
what it all means;
some seams torn
cannot be re-sewn.
Time flied,
hope had flown;
eyes cried,
sadness had grown.
Now a stranger strolling
upon foreign fields,
tempted by mirages
of familiar feels;
my dear, please flee
these fleeting passions
driven by forlorn fear.
Avert your attention!
Avoid villainous views!
Illusions of what once was
in undeserving avenues;
suiting spots to stay
seduce you
and your vulnerable state.
I beg you reconsider making a date
with such suspicious,
unsubstantial locales.
Superficial sands were not meant
for deep-rooted foundations,
like lengthy living situations;
they slack and slip and cannot hold steady
what deserve permanent security.
These soils of silt should be seen as wary,
as nary can carry the weight of a new home,
So please, take flit flight from
anywhere near there, my fair lady.
A hunger spread internal,
a burning desire infernal.
Searing, sharp pains
stab your insides,
sending you the message
to seek sustenance.
On the edge of the shores
you stand and stare.
You seem to forget the fish for the sea,
and this new island’s shallow pools
teem with fresh catches to eat.
A wandering eye may spy
one, two or some number more,
but worry and a flurry of feelings overcome
and you figure not even to try.
You prod your tepid toes
into the graham cracker-colored sands
and kick yourself for having not chose
a single swimming fish to have.
Alone and bedeviled only by paranoia,
You let personal problems from the past
prevent you from finding food,
from feeling full again.
It all falls apart from unresolved fears
that make for tears that put off sleep.
You’re afraid to tread in
wet, warm waters and
remember those old golden sands;
that tan the sizzling sunshine
would stamp into your skin;
the love whose remnants still
lie within.
You fight,
blue one,
to move on.
Swept up so quickly,
were you,
the scare of starting anew
is understandable.
In the stressful transition from a mess
to self-sufficient singularity
you have not a clue how to progress;
to readjust to simplicity;
or simply what to do.
You’re still there, unsure,
wondering and wondering,
where to settle and where
you may find solace and care.
Return to the beach and observe the sea.
What fish might there be?
What type of fish will
fulfill your needs?
What fish is for you?
Do tell, what will you do?