The Sea does not love me, part One
The sea does not love me.
It tastes my toes
steals the sand I stand on
then erases every trace of me.
But
does the sea love the land?
Since world began
violent attack and tenderest caresseses
battering breaking grinding
rock into softest sand.
And with each pulling back
offerings are left
at the ever moving edge between land and sea.
Does the sea love the moon?
that distant presence, mostly unseen
vast oceans held in the power of attraction
in and out, in and out, twice a day, slow breaths.
And sometimes sea and moon gaze at each other.
Does the sea love the air?
gusts that lift water into flight
delicate patterns of ripples
waves like thundering mountains.
And, countless millions of times a minute,
sea catches tiny balls of air in a fleeting sparkling embrace,
pops and is gone.
The Sea does not love me, part Two
The sea does not love me.
It is too ancient, too timeless, too vast.
It rolls on through the nights and through the days
whether I am there to watch
or not.
You too are ancient, timeless, vast.
You too roll on your grace and power and beauty
whether I notice or not.
How then do you love me?
How daft to claim you need me!
But I turn and see you running down the beach after me
like a laughing child, or a dog let off the leash,
or a tumbling tumble weed,
calling to me, rushing at me,
grabbing my hand and pulling me with you
dancing footprints in the sand.
You do love me
in your own good mystery.
Timeless, you choose here and now,
intimate in your vastness …
and I share, just a splash,
of your love for the sea
and the sea’s love for You.
The sea does not love me.
It tastes my toes
steals the sand I stand on
then erases every trace of me.
But
does the sea love the land?
Since world began
violent attack and tenderest caresseses
battering breaking grinding
rock into softest sand.
And with each pulling back
offerings are left
at the ever moving edge between land and sea.
Does the sea love the moon?
that distant presence, mostly unseen
vast oceans held in the power of attraction
in and out, in and out, twice a day, slow breaths.
And sometimes sea and moon gaze at each other.
Does the sea love the air?
gusts that lift water into flight
delicate patterns of ripples
waves like thundering mountains.
And, countless millions of times a minute,
sea catches tiny balls of air in a fleeting sparkling embrace,
pops and is gone.
The Sea does not love me, part Two
The sea does not love me.
It is too ancient, too timeless, too vast.
It rolls on through the nights and through the days
whether I am there to watch
or not.
You too are ancient, timeless, vast.
You too roll on your grace and power and beauty
whether I notice or not.
How then do you love me?
How daft to claim you need me!
But I turn and see you running down the beach after me
like a laughing child, or a dog let off the leash,
or a tumbling tumble weed,
calling to me, rushing at me,
grabbing my hand and pulling me with you
dancing footprints in the sand.
You do love me
in your own good mystery.
Timeless, you choose here and now,
intimate in your vastness …
and I share, just a splash,
of your love for the sea
and the sea’s love for You.