Echoes

In the thin air of morning

I speak with sweet sounds

drawn from all the

unknown murmurs

that yesterday were left

at the waves' edge

Listen!

Listen to what I release

into the morning:

each tone

another story:

unearthly tableaus

shards of myths

and ancient voices

echo over the shore

I am the daybreak

my slender body

born from the sea

my flute now whispers

and then cries out

for her:

my other self

who stayed behind

among the waves

having no desire

to be tailless

Now at each sunrise

and again at sunset

I make my flute speak

I know the night is near

when my eyes colour

from meadow green

to the deeper green

of the waves

I shiver

while my heart listens

waiting, ever waiting

for my love

in the light

of the silent moon

Sculpture:  La Sirène by Camille Claudel