we know water
and salt
breathed
weightless
within turns
& tidal rushes
jealous of mermaids
we long for
what was laid down
in blood memory
that never knew words
dream of flight
as a casual
push off of feet
before we knew feet
arms fanning
like wings
just up
& coasting
it was that easy
once
the times we swam
swaddled in
floating dark
under her heart
in pulsed waves
rocking without arms
we remember
you
mother
***inspired by some comments on the whale fall poem–Jeremy, you inspired me again!
Susan Daniels Poetry 
inspired you are,
the times we swam swaddled in floating darkness – liking that
Thanks, Ian–I really liked that part too–how dark can embrace and comfort us, and not be that source of fear that my mind seems to automatically jump to (this because my son is definitely not of the same mind as I am, and begs for a night-light).
I see a child swimming in the assured comfort of pre-natal bliss – dark but lit up by lights within!
yes, that is it exactly, Noel 🙂
A good reminder our reach as living creatures extends beyond what we experience, our senses detect, or what we know.
Yes.
I’m glad I offered some inspiration.
I can sense that the ocean is a mother sometimes because it is the only force in nature that fully lulls me. The only other sound I can think of is wind through pine trees. But the ocean -just to be in its proximity- fully lulls me like a mother.
Your poem captures that.
Thanks, Jeremy–me too. Our conversation got me to thinking about why that is and I went down the path of species memory–decided that was not it (perhaps that exists somewhere coiled in or DNA and is more accurately defined as instinct), and went with fetal memory, which we must somehow still carry around in our bodies somewhere, but at an elemental level few things can reach–except something that very closely mirrors our first experiences, before we knew they were experiences and just floated in them.
That’s an excellent summary, I think, of that feeling I experienced at the ocean. And I agree that it is something more than instinct at work.
A fine and profound inspiration.
Thanks Boomie!
What a scenne rushes before my eyes and within my soul! Taking a deep breath! Wonderful Susan!
Thank you, Deb–glad you liked!