Circling

I slip into

the liquid blue

amniotic fluid

of mother earth

while a pod of dolphins

mothers and babies,

siblings and parents,

over a hundred strong,

cavort beneath my floating form,

an elegant aquatic ballet.

I want to play,

to inhabit their skin

and know what it is to leap and spin

and sing harmony through

the wavelengths of light

shining rays of heaven

into the deep cool blue.

Instead, I place my hands

on my heart, still my breath

and ask for healing.

Floating like a lily pad on the surface

quietly humming,

watching the comings and goings,

I remember.

I have been here before.

A beautiful female

slows and pauses before me.

She pierces my soul with one eye,

making contact with

part of me I barely know.

Then, her graceful form begins

to slowly circle me,

not two feet away.

At first, I try to watch her

then I just let go.

Once,

Twice,

Three times around

she swims, sensing

the lift and flutter of my heart,

the way my soul yearns

the song I have yet to sing,

as if to say

lean in, my love,

loss is a portal

through which we all must swim.

As if to say,

we do not grieve alone, my love,

we carry each other’s fractured

hearts

we tend to them

we love them

circling round

until the spark returns.