When the sea stills
When the sea stills,
not completely,
of course not,
just a little,
you know,
that moment,
when wave becomes water,
soft and silky,
so much so,
that leaving feels easy,
the most natural thing,
off, off, off,
why not now?
When the sea stills,
just like that,
I hold my tiny breath
for fear of generating winds,
on this ocean
of borrowed time,
and for one heartbeat,
I truly believe
that freedom is mine.
This poem was written in response to the Sunday Writing Prompts on ‘The Procrastinators’. Here’s the link: https://theprocrastinators58220236.wordpress.com/2022/05/22/sunday-writing-prompts-sea-week/
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