I lie in open space,
In swift silence that passes my ears at rapid pace.
I roam in seafoam shores,
Layers of cotton brushing my face.
I wade through light waves,
Undulating in open skies,
Swimming amongst feathered fish,
Though few and far between do they appear.
The azure rolls the foam away,
Drifting endlessly in somber little streaks
And cute cotton swirls
until they pool
and pour down
Upon unsuspecting passersby
Who rush to unfurl their umbrellas.
Perfect little parasols
the ocean tears.
Weeping at the loss of her water child
Brings about another birth.