It is a bright Easter day
washed with the kind of light
that pierces,
bouncing off the sand
and around the edges
of my sunglasses so that I squint.
It isn’t the easiest thing,
to focus one’s eyes
intent upon the horizon.
But miracles
must be searched out these days
and blinking is just plain irresponsible.
We hover near the water’s edge
speaking in hushed
excited bursts, disciples
huddled against the wind, waiting
for our breath
to be taken away.
One boy
is paying no attention.
He spins in the golden white
of the day, squealing as the water
pinches his toes with cold,
leaping to catch a feather
which floats
prayer soft beyond
us. I have never told
him that patience
is a virtue
and he is not one to wait.
He turns, pulled by my gaze,
and rockets to my side
where he pants in silence,
finding our point of worship
upon the water
as the whale crests,
dark and mysterious.
The crowd gasps and I feel
his body curve
into the light, release.
He tugs upon my hand
with five year old zeal,
“When I die mama
I want to become part of the ocean,
because then I can be waves.”
© 2011
The Juice Bar 
Stunning work Ariana!! What a great poet you are 🙂
Love the photo VC….thanks!
Even more amazing with the reading. Fabulous! xoxoxox
You wonderfully capture the joy and the mystery of being by the ocean – well done.
You captured a child’s view and transposed it to the universe!
Excellent!
Shut the front door. That is what childhood is all about. And what we need to remember. We are all Water Babies. So great to see yesterday, my sis.
Love,
Matthew
The whale was the magi! Lovely poem.
Thanks!
thank you all!
and thank you lisa for the squeeze … it feels so good.
fantastic picture!
xo.
My pleasure!
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