This is where I find her,
Where rocks tip truth into sea.
This where my mind knows
Not to accept what it sees.
Pushing my life to the edge of the storm,
I come to the ocean a lie.
But dreaming may mend this image of self
Where ego concedes with a sigh.
And then the gale comes
In thundering waves
Assailing these firm jetty stones.
And when she arrives
Wistfully walking in squalls.
This is when I see her,
Long hair, long dress, long limbs
All white in dusk,
All grace in movement.
Eyes closed, she whirls,
Hair flying, she leaps stone to stone,
Dress flowing pirouettes the illusion
Of limbs beckoning to me.
So I come,
Whenever the wind rides fierce water,
dragging darkness and uncertainty behind.
I come to the ocean to dance.
poetry by SS Matthews