The sky is a mist of blue ghosts rising from the sea. The sky is a blanket of sparkling light that appears suddenly as if conjured by the fading horizon.  The sky is a layered curtain of shadow clouds that both disguise and reveal.

I sit without time, listening, watching. My body retreats from itself, my thoughts lose their words.  I am lost, dispersed, nameless.

I become like the wind, seeking its reflection. I become like waves repeating their primal dance.  I become like sand searching for the spaces between.

I float, a grain inside my eye.

I dreamt I was the moon, a sudden seizure of oceans traveling the spirals of shells. I dreamt I was a relic from the sea, worn away into a celebration of return.  I became my ancestors, unburied and uncontained, released into the sanctuary of the cosmic coil.

Sarah at dVerse has given us the prosery prompt “I dreamt I was the moon”, from Alice Oswald’s “Full Moon”.  I was lucky to be in North Carolina at the beach last week, where the moon was spectacular.  144 words and a few of my photos can’t even begin to capture the magic.