Waves of Dreams
Life’s ocean of colors carries me
home. Red and blue waves flow into you
and days gone by. I am afloat, often
rolling over and under its surf, a tidal wave
reflected violet like a mountaintop
draped in stars falling from Heaven,
or a calm, lavender spray of salty mist
mirrored by a distant midwinter sun.
Insecure moments rise and fall when withered
limbs tread through vast waters, the tips
of my toes unable to touch sand. I want to sleep
in the deep, wrapped warm in dreams of families
aglow on golden shores with nimble fingers
of children churning sand, seagulls circling picnics
and hovering mothers who see every baby step
with protective eyes. I am helpless in dreams
that remind me of a desired fantasy and a long-gone
memory. I feel alone in dark waters. I cradle
my innocence. Once, in a watery womb, we all felt
secure, nourished, wanted. We felt loved
in our newness, born to conquer stormy seas.
Never were we meant to survive alone. If I could
swim against the tide, I’d breathe in air
from farthest horizons and nearest rivers
leading me home, even if the waters receded
to nothing. Tomorrow may come,
and I may paddle north in search of love.
I might give in and rest on your shores.
Written 3/24/17
Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2017
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