This is where I find her,
Where rocks tip truth into sea.
Where this mind knows
Not to accept what it sees.
Pushing life to the edge of the storm,
I come to the ocean a lie.
Dreaming may mend an image of self
Where ego concedes with a sigh.
Where comes the gale.
Amidst thundering waves assailing jetty stones
Reality dies so she may arrive
Wistfully walking in squalls.
This is when I see her,
All white at dusk,
All movement in grace.
Eyes shining through slits, she twirls,
Hair flying in cyclones she whirls
Leaping stone to stone,
Her dress pirouettes
The illusion of limbs
Beckoning to me.
So this is why I come,
Whenever wind rises,
Rides fiercely dark waters,
dragging truth and uncertainty behind.
I come to the ocean to dance.
image= The Sea Witch by Frank Frazetta