Gulps of Air

Fingertips ripple off the ceiling

Emerging from the Ivy sea

Shadows speeding closer

-Make haste!-

Fuzzy figures of the outside world

Dance, with distorted images.

Ships? No, too small.

Soft angelic bubbles lift them above,

To the surface.

Blankets of ocean steal the air

pounding with fierce fists of rage

Dragging the hands back, as if to say,

"You are mine forever?"

Ripping through lace and foam,

Determined to be free, fingers

Break through glass surfaces, again.

Ocean has no patience for disobedience.

As a ruler - she becomes the tyrant.

Tidal waves, rise!

In favor of silencing you hers, for

an eternity!

Buoyant and light, waves wash over

Like rain.

Appearing to triumph, palms

Become sure and unshaken.

An eerie calmness settles over the ocean.

Coaxing, flattering the naive

Offering the entire world for a feast;

If hands, fingers, palms, and souls will return,

Then Submit.

Land is found. Support at last!

-Rejection for the heartless sea is

De-lightly painted on the fingernail-

Naive palms face land.

It is the final last, protection.

Feeling dirt beneath the soul

Grinding it between knuckles,

Wonderful!!

Ice in the water begins to melt,

Trembling waves turn into boiling madness.

Scorching the palms!

Scolding their spirits!

Still getting closer, five fingers gain land.

More fierce and intense rises the heat.

"Never will you leave me!" She shouts,

"You belong to me!"

Vigorously panting and scratching the rocks,

Gently hands begin to tire.

Hope is the only strength.

Halfway out of the water, Land partially Embraces the palm.

Lifting them from the sea

Dragging the fingers, so brave, so young.

Tides come up for one last fight.

Then pouncing upon land, she

Captures the index.

Lighting strikes and the lake becomes frozen.

Unbreakable chains commence

Pulling; tearing at the finger.

Feeling an overwhelming sense of

regret and depression, the captive finger

Gives in and submits to the will of Ocean.

***********

Clouds depart sending a

Magnificent blade with tears of love.

It strikes the soul, severing the

Finger from the hand.

Then, those remaining, are carried away.

Covered with years of pain,

Time, the only true healer of an

Open wound, Passes.

Leaving scars wished never to be remembered

Upon a place that will never b e erased.

In the souls of the four young fingers.

"Escape the sea and all her helpers,"

Warn the four strong hands.

"Do not tempt the waters in,

Or your fate may be to be

Buried in the

Depths of the

Ocean."