I look out over the flinting sea,
standing from the shores of a dream. I want
to find my sister there, floating just above
the dark water, but find nothing.
In every direction, the tern-filled sky opens
through the clouds, its burden of light
shared by my searching. I listen intently
for any voice other than my own to call me
out over the white-flecked water—anything
other than the small hum of my own heart.
I turn away, ready to awaken, when
from the depths I hear the leviathan
low my name—all the water within me
rings with its ancient rumble—and I turn
back and walk into the waves.