Soulmate

I always return
to the beach,
like its long-lost soulmate -
waves rushing to receive me,
welcoming all I bring,
meeting me,
even in my imagination,

I float along her
arms, splashing against
her grand
billowy body,
rocking my mind to clarity,
smoothing the pain of mistakes
with her steady clap,
rejoicing in my goodness.

I can tell her my troubles,
like a trusted friend,
surrounding my body
and protecting me from all
the debris I sometimes collect -
extracting hooks, untangling lines,
sailing me far from the undertow -
sadness washes away,
until I feel weightless.

She sings my every cell
to sunlit pinnacles
of stillness
with just
the hush
of her voice -
“Shhh, shhh,

come here,
my beloved child,"
the ocean whispers.

Her invitation
warms the push of my stride,
diving down
into waves of light,
my feet cushioned
in embraces of sand
so I can walk reverently
down the finger of God,

all the way
to where the glow
opens wide
and licks
the sky with
fat orange stripes

promising
a striking finale,
like a
crouching
tiger.

Everything looks up

and, at last,
I can
see life’s promise
ahead
again.