comes to me in waves

by Jacque Gates
(Fortville, IN)

she comes to me in waves
As I sit on the naked beach,
camera in hand,
Sand underfoot,
A distant horizon.

she touches me.
I feel her on my skin
the salty spray of the air
I breathe in the purity of her soul.

Like a hurricane she pulls me within,
Dark clouds, roaring thunder,
Uneasy eyes.

she is my home.
not of wood and stone
but of sand and salt
of purity of the spirit

a vast never ending home.





The first morning sunrise in Kill Devil Hills this past fall.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/howling-at-the-moon/