You are the moon’s eternal child,
You carry homes inside your ribs,
Both tide and hush, both meek and wild.
Each breath a wave, each wound forgives.
They think you hide but you protect,
Your love is fierce, a holy thread,
You feel too much, too deep, too wrecked.
A lighthouse glowing in your head.
You build from whispers, cook from pain,
Your arms are safe, your gaze is warm,
You turn your sorrow into rain.
But mess with yours you birth a storm.
You're quiet rage, you're sacred touch,
Still, what you give becomes a guide
You give too many, far too much.
A pulse, a port, a place to hide.
No one survives the sea unchanged
And you, dear friend, are the change.
About the Creator
E. C. Mira
I’m a poet at heart, always chasing the quiet moments and turning them into words. Most of what I write is poetry, but every now and then inspiration pulls me in new directions.
www.poetrybyecmira.com
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