wide and wavering

i was a few hours old when He gave it to me –
handed straight to my heart.
it was pure, innocent and He asked me to take care of it.
wholeheartedly.
(i don’t remember what i answered)

it grew with me.
wide and wavering.

it grew old with me –
it was growing mature and experienced.
in the mornings its skin was turning golden pink;
smelled like salt and nostalgia.
when i cried it was getting smaller –
they call it an undertow.

i let the boats in, but some of them are abundant now.
sometimes i wake up before the waves do,
i sit in one of the boats, waking the water up.
i touch the wood. the wood is rough and old
like the memory of the person
who used to ride this boat into the horizon
and back.
this boat was found empty on Friday.

the sea is big. it’s moody but it’s mine.
when i was a kid i was running on it’s surface.
barefoot.
water was splashing all over.

it grew old with me
wide and wavering.

the night crawled in once into my sea.
it was long and thick and stormy.
i almost drowned – the memory of sinking down
and touching the bottom with my hands.
cold and clean sand ran between my fingers.
the pressure made my ears hurt.
then i touched God. He was soft, warm and big.
i was pushed back into the air and light.
to the oxygen.

He promised if i have faith i can walk the waves again.
i can now.
but mostly i swim.

спорідненість

30 серпня, 2016

повір мені, в тобі – краса
думок невпиння пильного змагання
словами. ранішня роса
свіжить в очах. то натяк на повстання.

ти вір мені. я бачу нескінченність
що розбивала стіни. хвилями світів
ти захлинай, вбивай буденність
і вір мені, в тобі – краса вітрів.

свіжодрук

16/12/2015

холодний ранок, привітна кухня –
малюю чорним дереволистя.
щось дуже добре  – тепер відсутнє,
хтось дуже вірний сьогодні зрікся.

гарячий подих “меліса-м’ята”
парує з чашки та гріє руки.
мій кожен ранок – маленке свято
зимових птахів та свіжодруків…

автор: Тетяна Дятлик