The Pyle Inside

The wind on the sea,

And the sound of her voice,

Are one,

One and the same.

Her dress is the foam,

That bubbles up,

Up upon the waves.

Her lips are coral.

Her skin,

Pale sand.

Her hair,

The darkest depths.

Her eyes are blue,

Like shallow seas.

Her temper,

Like the waves.

And she calls herself,

The maiden,

The maiden of the sea.

She watches the world,

As it passes her by,

The eternal maiden,

The maiden of the sea.

She commands her armies,

The dolphins and the fish.

They follow,

Without question,

The maiden of the sea.

She brings down boats,

But lets the sailors reach the shore.

She floods towns,

With her tsunamis,

But gives warning.

Always caring,

The maiden of the sea.

She is changing,

Always shaping,

Into something new.

She is the riptide,

Come to take you,

Drag you out to sea.

She is the waves,

That wash the wrecked survivors safely home.

She is the maiden,

The maiden of the sea.