Tidal Stirrings
by Betsy Mars

We lay face-down on the beach,
masked faces in the water,
waiting for the next wave
to arrive, stirring up the sand:
an underwater snowglobe.
We were a part of it all:
the bubbles, the whirling,
anything that might surface
or arrive,
with each gently lapping tide.

Photo by Timo Wagner on Unsplash

MarsMaskPhoto copy

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:  I wrote this during NaPoWriMo as one of my 30/30 (poems/days). I was trying to find structure during this time and setting myself goals. I am generally a person who struggles to settle down, who likes to be of use, while also longing for downtime and solitude and focus to read and write. In the pursuit of my sanity, I enrolled in a free meditation course and have been trying to practice daily. I noticed that my breath reminded me of the gentle in and out lapping of the waves, and one night when I awoke in another anxious state, I tracked that thought and remembered when my children were young and they discovered that they could lie, belly-down, at the shoreline on the beach and discover a kind of magical world that erupted every time the water came in – all kinds of life coming up from the sand, as well as the bubbles and swirling sands brought in by the tide.


ABOUT THE AUTHOR Betsy Mars is an LA-based poet, photographer, and an occasional publisher. Her chapbook, Alinea  (Picture Show Press), was released in January 2019. She published the anthology Unsheathed: 24 Contemporary Poets Take Up the Knife through Kingly Street Press in October 2019. Her work has appeared widely online and in print. Find her on Facebook and on Twitter.