• God,  Life,  Love,  Motherhood,  Poems,  Poetry

    Just to Touch the Ocean

    I sit with old mothers, watching the tide They curl fatherless children in their hips And watch the blurred horizon for ships Which left too long ago to remember Or for monsters or an angry wind They call their kids back from the dark I sit with my mother, all smile and tan At the beach where she felt most herself Where she played and collected her shells The crashing and churning don’t scare her Every bit of it named, can’t you tell? All known by a God who is light They run from the lines of white foam And they scream while they laugh Grab fistfuls of sand to…