The Sea by Marilyn VergeFrançais | Español

I miss the sea!

I left it behind one day, but it wouldn't leave me. Until the day I die, it will never cease to be part of me. For me, that is where everything begins, and everything comes to a close.

How I yearn for the sea...

I miss its swells and surges, its shattering waves, its constant thundering.

I miss its very immensity, its limitless horizon.

I miss the way the wind soothes its waters, or churns and furrows and tosses up spindrift, spray and spume and rollicking sea horses.

I miss salt water, sea air, sea spray, seaweed and starfish.

I miss sunbeams sprinkling on wave crests, the hot noonday sun dazzling the sea surface, the soft light of morning mist, the darkness of storm tossed seas, and foam tipped wavelets washing the shoreline.

My childhood was lulled by its music. Tides continually remoulded the sea shore where I did my childish drawings and gathered my beach stones. Closing my eyes I see the blue of the sky dancing its merry way into sea waters.

I see waters dark and buffeted by great winds. But I want to forget shipwrecks, derelicts or drownings, and think only of the great peace it brings me when I am by its side, my eyes drawn to the infinite beyond the narrow line that separates the blue of the sky and the blue of the sea.

And I feel as if my feet are turning into roots burrowing deep toward my beginnings.

Translated by Nix Wadden
Newfoundlander