And blue sweet curve, foam bright in air were hers, in the depths to seek.
Fierce the storm, wild air turns,
and in the game they played,
slicing wave through whirling edge and on the wind blows,
blue plains to see, they flew the storms game and she,
in gracious time, flew with wings great as the wind,
free, uncaring into our mother's warm embrace.
Up away from waters suck to the bitterness of sky.
And I, fettered to earth, sand and rock to bite me,
out mother reaching out,
her foamy fingers to touch my gravid sides,
heavy with her get, she of the liquid eyes so sweet and him,
bright wanderer, father of my siblings and I.
Churn mother sea,
whirl father sky
and the earth lies a bitter mistress.
The game they play,
tossed in a father's arms,
almost the earth to kiss,
I lie watching them and she skims the earth,
her wings, water sheer green, careening by black rocks.
Too close, now fire burns the sea of her flight.
I lie watching her,
and the storm calls and the children come,
her children born of my body
and they lie in waters pale and blind,
but feeling the wind.
So sweet, her sweetness
and I take them in my mouth to taste
and I am filled with them.
Gravid with her get forever,
on the sand I lie, watching them play the game.