Everything comes in waves.
Everything that matters
will remain but moved.
Droplets as dew travel
covertly along these liquid lines
where air and water are harmonized
and expressed as external forces
weaving winds.
Victims of our voices;
cliffs conduct the falls,
reefs set the pitch,
reflections in the glass face(s)
blink back sharp silver lights
tossing frothy stinging beads
and foaming at the rabid lips.
The water was left wild.
The sand shows where steps,
the lines, the lyrics, the chorus
soothe all savages, beckons all beasts,
who seek definitive ends
in horizons.
The sirens wail while
time takes its toll in salt
and lets the rest settle.
Absorbed and absolved
in a sea of selflessness.
Image By Pogobuschel (Own work) [CC0], via Wikimedia Commons.
