Poetry

The Vision

As the weightless wings brush my face,

fluttering against my vision,

I feel the path open up again.

A shallow wave licks my ankles

and fills the rock pools

with miniature lifeforms

that have no idea I’m here.

Like full lips parting

the wave draws back.

My feet follow,

ignoring the jagged rocks

that threaten to pierce the skin.

In the distance,

I see the family beckon to me,

holding out their hands for me to grasp.

But I’m bodiless,

my grip lost

to the horizon.

Once again,

I must turn away.

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