the waves come to play

(March 2022. Written during multiple sessions of playing with the waves at the beach in Ocean Park, Santurce, San Juan, Puerto Rico, the night of the full moon bonfire. I kept leaving the bonfire to come back to play with the waves. Somewhat stream of consciousness, less metaphysical than the here now poem from this same session.)

i)

i was called elsewhere but i have returned
shoeless sockless and sweats rolled up
feeling the approaching sand with my feet
sinking into the wet sand waiting
and the waves come to play
not the abstract wave but this wave
this wave right now and how it feels
now around my ankles a circle of touching now
the water wet and warm
and the way it pulls the sand beneath me
standing still on a different ground
and how it feels
and how this feels
and how it felt my feet stuck
in sand remembering sinking
as the world pulls past away
and how of course i can step out of any depression shallow enough
and how staying is a choice and moving
and how this wave feels fresh round shins
how the water is warm and i am warm
sunk to my ankles though i am
and how of course the world came back again

this has been fun
thank you
the waves want to come and play

ii)

salt is downward
snow is upward

walt i swear to god
the waves kissed me goodbye
the last push of white foam
touched the tip of my toe

there are two white roses
standing tall in the wind
from small mounds of sand
their white laughter fluttering
with the waves muttering behind
remembering something
i was not therefor

before i danced with the waves
i sat with the roses in the wind
and now i close this ceremony
my feet wet and drying
and the roses still here
and my breath remembering
this was sacred to someone
so it is sacred to me