Then came the sea, her freeform blues playing for a smoky sky; it was a sky adorned with the silhouettes of wide stretched wings, of birds long homeward bound.
From sea of freckled lacy face to land of petalled-same, the coast invited the eye to see rather than simply look.
The sea is infinite blue in infinite weather patterns, yet in all this she is the prettiest colour I ever saw.
The sea is more than we see, for she gives us most of the oxygen in our lungs. she wraps her brine around every limb as a mother, only ever asking for our respect and loving care.
The wind had become the orchestral conductor of the sea, sending waves into their crescendos' all through the ballad that was the night. All about us was the perfume of the salty water and the fine spray that came as boldly as any viola flurry. It was as if life herself had entered the water and the energy was so great that this great pulse came upward to form a steady rhythm.
Moving through her depths, I become aware of her currents; the sea is more as rivers in three dimensions with no need of banks. In them are schools of the living, the creation that remained in her watery embrace when we land dwellers sought flowers and the shelter of trees. Though to her fish swimming is as easy as breathing underwater, it is no doubt time for me to return to the waves and the boat that awaits, anchored for my return as it rests upon her steady pulse.
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