Strange.

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Strange roots of soul
Strange depth of the ocean
I miss the shore on the golden beach
Strange foam interspersing bare feet
Strange sand sliding in the crab caves
Strange the traveling poet in ular, ular
Strange sea and land unite in soul
I miss the romantic poet
I miss the poetry interspersed
of vehement love
I miss, miss, paths in figurative life,
Strange the prey emotionally
in the depth of the ocean.
I miss sensations in sinking
in the swells dragging emotions.
Emotions released
to bursting tropical storms.
Strange, it is strange to remember
the figurative in love .
I miss writing in love .
Strange, yes strange and not strange
because the tidal waves vibrate
in writing in the sand that Christ
loves me and never abandons me.
Christ is present in the flow of emotions
of emotions guiding my spirit
in adoration and reflection that I am
woman of life, soul in Christ ...
That I am sand, sea and earth
at the feet of my God...