Mer

Hans Christian Anderson's 

The Little Mermaid

Mer

Ancestor or myth? Or are you still there

beneath the waves, the waters

hidden deep within our Mother

hiding from your sisters and brothers

who once hunted and misunderstood

you who move as one with ocean

and creature alike. Who dive and

rise as dolphins and whales do.

Human or creature? Or are you

both? Do we know who we are?

We walk too tall among the others

pretend we are not one of them

those creatures who roam our

earth. Animal we are, but we

misunderstood our place.

You, ethereal, homo aquaticus

beautiful being upon the waves

are what we have dreamed into

legend, then myth, but then

we began to see you again

in books, logs of historical record,

once more we wonder. Are you there?

Shadows beneath the waves

beneath our conscious minds

deep in the sub ocean of our

imaginations you begin to rise.

We begin to understand again,

but can we take it all in

begin this life again from

a new place, as one with all the others?

Or will it drown us? This sea of

knowledge that we are no different

than you or the dolphin or the whale

or the sea lion or the ape washing

in the waters of life who stands

on two legs and wonders…

© 2012 Joanne Elliott

This poem was inspired by Animal Planet's, Mermaids: The Body Found.  It didn't seem for real and was very sensationalized as most cable shows are now, but it did get me thinking. 

The video below is a music video by Raina, the Halifax Mermaid. The song is For the First Time by Drew Rogers.

This poem is for dVerse Poets Pub Open Link Night.

Strength

She looks into the mouth of the lion

knows fear, that intimate

fiend that stalks

her night and day.

Fear has become an abusive lover

that promises tomorrow

will be different

but never is.

The lion’s hot breath stirs her senses.

She feels the adrenaline

begin its course through

her small body.

It races to her limbs

feeds them.

This time

she doesn’t turn away.

This time she stares into the hot abyss.

Demands her heart slow,

seek another rhythm.

One connected to

heaven and earth.

One that rides time

as the hawk rides thermals

over its shadow in the canyon.

© 2012 Joanne Elliott

This poem is from a writing exercise I did during a weekly poetry salon I hold in my home. A friend did the exercise…we had to choose a tarot card and then write what came to mind.