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
