Time was created when there was nothing to do, nowhere to go,
No memories.
No time to remember when the horrible things happened, nothing
To prevent icy fingers around your throat.

Then the Shepherd-of-the-Sun loomed time on his wheel, and
Spun a place for the good and
The evil Banes...the Predators, claws, and canines
That dripped the blood of slower things
That left pawprints no longer.

Timing makes evil.
Timing makes good.
Timing makes skeletons to tell stories of once-upon-a-time...when
The Balance tipped. Once-upon-a-time when Unicorns weren't Ashamed of their horn.
Animals looked on it in awe, and
Were jealous.

I sit on a deserted beach, grieving for the Unicorn...Heaven's most
Gentle creature.
Someday, I think that if I reach out very quietly...somewhere...
I might stroke it's forehead. I must never touch it's horn.
It is sacred...
Holy.

Someday, the ocean will call me.
Someday, I will leave my towel behind me.
Someday, I will know my mother's love.
Someday, we will laugh in the sun.

I will live close to the ocean, sitting on a twisted piece of driftwood
As a pew...I will attend the sermons of gulls...and I will dance down
Aisles of foam, sanctifying my feet with the soul of an
Eyeless, beached fish.
I will breathe the incense, wafted on sea winds...of sunken ships,
Ribbed and reeking of
Once-billowing sails...
Once-bellowing captains.

I will live until the ocean calls me...walking as a Pilgrim through
Early, dense fog...heavy mists hoarding intricate shells.
I will take one to my pew to read messages from it's water-time.
I will learn what the ocean taught it.
I will laugh and dance...delighting in seaspray and tides,
Until...
My Mother calls,
Telling me it is time
To come inside.

elysabeth faslund

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-ocean-mother/