Between

Playing a game with death

The Atlantic Way gives its way to fate

The path is protected

Yet edged with jagged rock

wave-worn stone leaning into the ocean.

Every touch is an act of remembering

tuning into its origin.

Sit on the surface;

here is covered with oceanic creatures

its turning, twisting waves

rolling through themselves

The deep blue water embraces that magical moment,

quietly meeting its heart,

blushing into sea-green

just long enough before surrendering to white,

resembling light.

The sound it makes is an announcement of its return

its rhythmic dance of reunion. Here, Now,

the narrow bridge between life and death

crossing into each other

sharing a breath

demanding to be felt.

Annihilation threads through life;

the soft edge of oblivion echoes here.

And

its taste

its taste

its salted-end.

The body responds,

shivers in awe,

shaking the madness,

of choosing the unknown

feeling alive.

The wind pierces the spine.

Breathe.

Pause.

Listen.

Bring an offering to the land.

Ask the ancestors for permission.

Honour them

the spirits are here.

Air blends with the earthy, sharp

seaweed scents of the ocean,

Alkaline, alive

Lose yourself.

God is here.

Life is here.

See - the tide rising.

That sudden silence.

Choose to be still

let the mind trembles

Lose yourself once more.

Watch;

every splash of water

moves,

coils with the air,

where the possibility of being taken

feels almost irrevocable.

Perhaps it ends in becoming

a thousand golden butterflies

appearing at once in the sky

then dissolving into flame,

expanding in her presence,

you are not forgotten by her grace.