The Sea Queen
Comes to me, her mist—borne salt breeze in early morning hours—she speaks greeting to the stillness life-bearing waters flood her gaze long and deep and trip in a glance the lever of my spirit—she waits in the expectant wash of dawn—then leaps up as a sun—flown shaft of brilliance, or laughter—giving but a glimpse of her treasure to the world, and disappearing into her own waters.
Unspeakably deep is her heart—music—singing inviting sea-thoughts to the diety. Wide and unsearchable her waters—beating unknown rhythms in their depths—I hear the seabirds cry—no sooner piped, then mysteriously hidden and unclaimed. I stand thought-locked in the long pre-dawn hours, watching the light play on her surface—I contemplate her brave communion with the sky. There I the sky bends low and hovers over her—she is covered with its fine mist... Sister Claude