It

Coming, we’ll make all time
Begin once more:
What went before
Can’t survive our heave and brine.
Forgivefulness thick as salt in the wave
we swell
And, swelling, tell
All that once, first told, was fresh:
Our tale, sea salt, flesh
All these first-time worlds we’ll save.
Our arrival roars with peace.
Whatever craves rebirth
Under the moon or in heaven’s surf
Will, in our unfolding, cease,
And in ceasing, start again,
Beyond all reach of time, of pain.

Coming
Luiza de Mesquita