Oceans of salt and tomorrows

After (or between) torrents of rain, the sun is shining. Chaffinches are cheeping outside the window and a robin is singing. This is a collaborative poem with the Oracle who always knows best.


There is beauty in the pinking of the sky

and in the blue diamonds of seawater,

rolling so gently towards the sun.

I lick the salt from raw lips,

slick the sticky spray from my hair

and watch the faces in the changing clouds.


There is beauty in the red of rose,

the smell of rain held in curved petals

and in the reflected pearl drop of my moon,

sailing in skies purpled and cleansed of mist,

where not even the black of death

can crush this rising storm of spring with you.


I remember brilliance in the vastness of night skies,

in the microscopic treasures in the grass

and the otter-smooth roundness

of polished stones at the waterโ€™s edge.

I remember laughter in the wilderness because there was you,

and eternity was a maybe, a perhaps.


That girl is a ghost now

but she still smiles at me

across an ocean of tomorrows.

Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

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