Salt water and wind buffering our faces
We embrace the howling sea,
As I carry you along this unspoilt shore
I suddenly hear your voice, unbounded, speaking to me:
All this I have seen before, mummy,
The froth, the ebb, the flow of the ocean,
Its elemental beauty.
For I have come from another life,
To dwell for a time here with you.
You know me mummy
You knew me before time began and shall carry on knowing me in eons of time,
When this land before our feet has turned to dust.
It was simply that I was waiting for the right time to come,
Quietly, to be birthed gently at home into your arms.
And when we finally met I knew all there was to know,
Looking into your tired mother eyes,
Which spoke reams of love.
I sighed, letting go of your body,
Trusting in your innate capacity to love and mother me from the outside,
Along a continuum we still have so far to tread
Together as we teach each other more about love.
Gladly I hold your tiny hands and kiss your soft hair,
Breathing in your still newborn smell,
As I gaze into your deep blue, infinite eyes.
In this one grain of sand, this lifetime,
I hold before me
Its precious years, this time together
Which we are so privileged to share.
Acton Beach, Ireland, September 2013
Postcript: Four months after this poem came into my head as I was walking along a beach in Ireland, Tessa experienced walking and touching the sea and sand herself on holiday in Fuerteventura. She was totally fearless faced with the sea in-front of her. She toddled down to the sea and instantly soaked herself through, completely caught up in the moment. I let her get wet, observing her from a distance. Again I felt she had lived near the sea and knew the sea well, in a past life. It was a beautiful moment as I watched her gazing into the sea.