Sea Woman

The wild wonderful things were said,
As the clouds passed over the hill.
The sea is the mood of the wind and the sky,
And I am waiting still.
Waiting alone for the things to be called,
That were written upon your limbs.
Waiting alone with the seagulls cry,
And the sound from your throat like hymns.

How can I ever imagine a thing
Like the call of the tide on the shore,
Reaching and falling,
Hoping and calling,
For ages and evermore.
So went my words
And my blood and my arms,
My feet and my thighs and the rest.
So went my longing
And need for belonging,
In warmth and desire at your breast.
Oh Mother the Sea –
Oh Mother to me –
Oh Woman who calls to my tide,
Be like the Earth to the oncoming surf,
Beckoning, restraining, Seaside.

Tony Crisp

Copyright ©2001 Tony Crisp