I have sat and watched the ocean
for hours
and years
and while I don't quite know why
I still feel
justified
compelled
in waiting for a reply
for words I already know
will never wash ashore
for me to find
like unbroken sand dollars
glistening gold in the sand
reminds that chasing
never gets
wise by watching-
taking it all in by
each pebble upturned, every
gull and erne, the rhythmic
flap beat and crash, cymbalist
water splashing up word
dancing in wavy mockery
a song whose lyrics
are all pitch and roll
foaming at the lip
while I
still
sit quietly listening
to hear it again
and a-gain
in a grain
in all ways
voluminous, numerous
voluminous, numerous
white words
that tidally summit
and blend back in
singing to sea
and blend back in
singing to sea
and here,
the choir.
Composed 1/23/16.
Image by RicardoUrbinaM assumed (based on copyright claims). [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons (edited).