The Man Who Strolled Into The Sea. Poem by Andrew David Hunt

The sky gloriously shines, from her dear emerald eyes,
As she restlessly cavorts, to a near perfect still glimmer.
Her soft mouth so sweetly sings, in delicate echo sighs,
That rush down to a tide which surges with a strong tremor
curling In soft silver strokes, that shine with fine crafted lines,
That readily beg for a restless bed, and a release to deliver.

What happens is fast. An unthinking act brought out of need,
A unity made by the invisible gods who really run this world;
At once I am upon her and then -so suddenly- I am within her,
And she embraces hard about my aching shaking heady plead
So, as she lets me glide in, with a smooth and silky motion,
I stroke out, then joyfully breathe as i bathe in joyful reverie.

And in her growing arms, a lack fear and loathing starts to flow,
Here my fists are raised towards the grey, as I meet my destiny.
Oh how I sense everything in her slow and tender motion;
And the ever rolling constant tides of our long sought time;
That just so slowly thrusts turns and then oh so gently slides,
I merely glimpse her along the length of this golden shoreline.

And in the long yet subtle strokes, rests another hidden reality
Once lost to us by the lies made by our so sour present time;
Oh how truth slowly spreads in surging unfurling weaving arcs
To reach a place of no known beginning and no known end
Where ancient heaving worlds divide, as they so nearly collide,
To free this soul from the ties that make us so bitter and blind.

I float by the edge: I am the man who strolled into the sea;
For there is no other place that gives anything more to me.
I take every step so slowly, as I long to meet her gaze;
I stare at sea salt crusted trousers but my mind is not in a daze.
I want to be with her and away from all this hard aching sky;
And with anticipation in my heart, I dive, as she so gently sighs.

(c) adh 2013