I had a tantrum on the beach.
disgrace, youd say.
to know, I screamed at the wind, and it tore away my words and hurled
them at the cliffs.
to belong, I shrieked, kicking the rocks, and they hunched their backs
at me, bumping with laughter.
to fly, I yelled at the gulls, and they swooped acrobatically and glided
to swim, I wailed at the silver seals, and they rolled their eyes and
turned their heads at such unthinkable stupidity.
to understand, I sobbed to the sand, and waves rushed up and lost my
tears in the sea.
to learn, I hiccupped to the machair, and long tufted grasses drew
me onto their lap.
peace, I whispered to the sky, and a soft white mist rolled in from
the sea and took me to the island behind.