I do not believe in a theistic God.
But what is it about water which
is so immersive for body and brain.
Be it brook, river or sea
we are drawn into it
feet first, waist high, or to be
submerged and feel the stop of breath
the beat of heart, inside the ear,
like a lost memory of the womb.
And when I lie in a blood-warm bath
soap suds glisten like pearls
and skin gives up its flaccidity
as if to mirror my inner self
the fertile lover, the dreamer,
the woman rooted in constancy.
What is it about when we emerge again?
like new-borns, the smell of sex erased,
yet somehow so like Aphrodite.
Or that feel of grey pebbles underfoot
of our soles, like foundations
until the next wave lifts us skywards.
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©Talia Hardy 2014