933. O let me bathe where ocean’s fingers play,

SONNET 933
By JH Sayyar
O let me bathe where ocean’s fingers play,
In waves that kiss the shore with pearled light,
Where salt and sun together cleanse the day,
And stars wait beneath the foam so white.
No sweeter balm than brine upon my skin,
No softer robe than seaweed’s cool face
Each surge erases all the cares within,
Each tide bestows a calm and ancient grace.
The wind shall comb my hair with gentle hand,
The seagulls sing while silver dolphins glide,
And I, a guest upon this shining strand,
Shall drift with joy into the rising tide

So let the sea be chapel, bath, and balm—
In ocean’s arms, my soul finds deepest calm.