The Island

I must go to the island

I must go to that island,
the place where I breathe,
where blue seas overflow
and whales dream in their sleep.

I must go to that island,
the place I have loved,
where white waves break
and warm sand meets bare feet.

If I set a small boat afloat
and lie back, arms for a pillow,
before I know it I fall asleep—
a place like a mother’s nest.

Humming softly,
carried on the wind,
even if I drift to distant shores,
it is a place that will wave me home.

I must go to that island,
floating alone, gently,
like a lovely bride,
calmly dressed, waiting.

When I arrive there,
I will run first of all
into the arms that open wide—
my dear, faithful friend.

I must go to that place,
I must go to that island.

*these are my own paintings*