Misty Ridge Musings

The Mist nestled among the waves.
Sometimes gently rocked
Sometimes tossed,
Always embraced by the Sea,
Mother of the Mist.

Plastic beachgoers gone
With them abandoned straws pails shovels human detritus.
Tis the Season of The Sea.

I will miss you, Sea.
You have nestled and rocked me.
A quatrain of years
Have I rocked on your fringe
Contemplated The Abyss,
Listening to your sonata in Sea Minor,
Until it vibrates in the marrow of my bones.

I know now the truths I knew when I was twelve
Truths lost to Adolescence
Then to the Busyness of adulthood,
In my Autumn regained.

I will retreat from your shore,
Carry your song to the forest
Sing it to the trees
Watch your Mist
Waltz among the moon beams.
Mother of Moonlight.

Dragon, reborn,
Like Aphrodite
Rises from the Mist,
Mother of Dragon.

Embrace Truth
Known Lost Regained.

(Dear Readers, look closely… there is a dragon rising from the waves.)