Thoughts inspired by John Masefield.
I miss the sound of the sea
the smell of salt
the wash of waves on silver sand.
We were all water once
woven warp and weft from ocean whisper
and the deep dreams of whales.
I will go back at the end of the day
before the dying of the light
and linger in the salt blue sun.
Once when we were water
we knew what was true and what lie
why we must go down to the sea again.