Spring brings transformation. Winter's inertia must be sloughed off. Like the snake who has stayed too long in one skin, we are restless. The buds that become blossoms seem to urge us to do the same. Mythology tells the story of a seal who slipped out of her skin and became human for the love of a mortal man. But her wildness will not leave her alone. Here are some lyrics I wrote in 1997. (I love rhyme though it is out of style in our century.)
SEAL WOMAN’S SONG
Once I swam the bluest waters,
the deepest waters of the sea.
The bright sea grass caressed my skin
and colored fishes danced with me.
When the currents ran too cold
I turned my belly to the sun,
resting where the surface pools
glittered till they ran as one.
Until I saw him, white and strange
eyes that told me come away.
In my dreams he swam with me
I longed for him by night, by day.
His hands, his breath, his voice so low
the cleaving of his back so brave;
his shoulders rose just like a prow
will part the gentle swelling wave.
I beached myself upon the rocks
where longing burst my very skin.
I died in blood and salty dew
and naked, new, I joined with him.
I bathed myself in his delights
until I burst just one time more
crying, shrieking with the wind
a human child my passion bore.
I watch them walk upon the strand:
their fair heads high, their skin so pale,
born for walking, blood and bones,
their fingers splayed apart and frail.
I miss the sleekness of my fur,
the currents roiling past my fins,
the mighty power of my tail
that made the yellow sea-foam spin.
Home, I feel the call of Home.
My veins beat with the song
the brine within my blood demands;
it cannot wait for long.
Copyright Cathy Larson Sky 4/2015