Visiting

walking alongside the shore
seashell to my left ear
a voice spoke in ancestral rhythms

"sit before the sea and wash both your feet"

gathered in my right hand the tail of my red/black
&green bellowing skirt, flung it towards the wind
watched it fly then settle by my side again
then sat down where the edge of the salty wash
and the first breath of land meet. washed my feet.

"now lay down. a piece of driftwood will float by"
"it will pierce you in your right side"
"let your blood flow with the sea"

my own bones began to break and rattle
and my voice to wail and moan
in unfamiliar tones i had not heard before
but knew were all mine

it was then i remembered
the waves rushing over me were
watering hallowed ground