Sea Grief
We called the seabirds.
Swooping and squawking -
The wave bobbers in
Constant chatter, exchanging
Stories in braggadocio caws,
Carried on playful winds.
And the seabirds mocked our tears.
We called the waves.
Beach bound, unfolding.
Each one cascading their
Story, demanding to be heard
Before being absorbed by
The grateful sands.
And the waves battered our souls.
We called the ocean.
Voluminous and resonant.
Seemingly empty, yet
Teeming with life and
Swimming with stories.
Channelled by endless currents.
And the ocean swallowed our happiness.
We called the sharks.
Our grey-fears that remained
Hidden, unfathomable,
Threatening to surface and
Devour us in frenzied grief.
But the sharks meant no harm.
They had stories of their own.
--
Sea Grief. In memory of my daughter Milla, who so loved the sea. Inspired by the beautiful book, The Shark Caller, by Zillah Bethell.
