Poem
The Tidal Force of It
24 February 2021 Wednesday Prose Poem Prompt: moving expressions
Extrasensory we come, flowing slowing, in the breath and breathing of it. Somewhere there’s music, who knows how far, a moola mantra — that’s where you are. A faint tune woven through each feinted jab, contracting the world to the raw tiny universe conducting this watery orchestra. Swell, crest, break, breathe, repeat repeat repeat…
the vile of bile connecting profane to profound, the wave is breaking. A shiver and groan, the tide is turning; the moon is burning. Pulling against meaning and cohesion, gripping fast to reason, wondering at the wrongness of the season flipped end-to-end, but dare not push. Sinusoidal maps the contractions of whale upon water, this exquisite ballet of pain. Grace traces the intimate spaces dragging forth strength in perseverance fighting the undertow…
a black inky blot brings the whirlpool to a stop, spinning galaxies faster still — conservation of angular momentum is an inviolable natural law after all. Sea grass grasps the ocean floor, begging not to be ripped away, screaming salty screams of, “STAY, STAY, STAY!!” Bloated kelp bobs helplessly along an ebbing tide, no choice but to ride where the current wills. The alarming silence chills flotsam frozen still…
