The Sea that Grew the Whale
She Became the Sea That Grew the Whale
She let go of stone and dust,
a body once held by the ground.
She walked to the edge of the land
and stepped into the water.
She did not turn back.
Her hands loosened,
her name drifted behind her.
She moved through currents
until her feet no longer touched ground.
She let the cold pass through her.
She listened to the deep.
She did not speak.
The tides carried her breath.
The wind moved through her arms.
Fish passed beneath her skin.
The whale came slowly.
It turned once in the dark
and came to rest inside her.
She kept it safe.
She gave it space.
She fed it with stillness.
It grew, and she remained.
The sea held her.
She held the whale.
