My ocean mother (poem)

(Found on a scrap of paper, slightly reworked.)

My ocean mother

I arrive at the beach early.

Off with the shoes at the bottom of the last step.

The soft sand envelopes my old feet,

Trying to remember, "Who is this?"

Now I

Am standing deep in thought

Trying to remember, what?

Ah, yes, the ocean of my childhood.

The waves are rough, breaking far out.

I move closer to where they

Have smoothed and packed the sand.

I call the ocean "Mother".