Bits of Poetry

The Beach

A light breeze sifts through my hair. 

The smell of salt hits me like a fastball cracking against the bat.

The sound of water crashing and birds calling is like music to my ears.

My feet sink into the wet, gravelly ground.

I walk forward, letting the water come to me.

The current pulls me further in until the water comes up past my waist.

I submit to the calling of the blue watery deep and submerge.

The cold surges through my bones, filling them with a tingling numbness.

My hair is dripping with water and my face feels like ice in the cool air.

Though an icy fire is coursing through my veins, I smile and laugh, getting mouthfuls of salt.

I don't mind the salt and the wetness, the fire and the ice.

Because the beach and the ocean are welcoming me with open arms.

Here, I am home.