original artwork--phantomheart

An ocean of pain
washed you to me
and i pulled you,
small and shivering,
onto the sand.
such a tiny thing,
i held you close
as the waves lapped
jealously at my ankles,
and as the days passed
we played on the beach
and you grew in my heart
as you grew in the sunlight
and the ocean receded
into the distance,
only the murmmering
at high tide
to remind me
that you were not mine forever.
I could give you love
and i could wrap you within
my soul and i could be mother,
but always the ocean
that sucked and swirled
in the distance
told me i could not give you
the promise of
tomorrow,
for the tides of life
are strong and unpredictable,
and i, alone, could not carry you
from the sand.
So we played in the sunlight
and years have passed
and now you run along
the beach.
small legs, strudy and sure,
trusting and secure
within the sunshine
of this fragile existence,
oblivious to the brewing storms
that lash the horizon
with uncertainty.
And now the tide is rising
and the waves
are rushing to the sand
and though i hold you tightly,
the waters now are angry
and i know they will pull you
from my desperate grasp
and wash you away from me
to some strange and distant shore.
But no matter how wild the storms,
you trust me to hold you,
for a mommie's hands
are alway strong enough,
aren't they?
Oh, god, my sweet child,
they look like strong hands,
they look like
......strong
..............hands,
don't they........

phantom...(c) wla 8-7-2000