adventures in dysthymia

Tuesday, August 02, 2016

The Wave, Spent --- a poem

The Wave, Spent

The wave, spent, whispers memories
of its journey, of ice-edged winds
that gave it birth in distant, arctic
seas, the winds that nourished, strengthened,

sent it forth to test its power
upon these shores. It speaks of schools
of slender silver-sided fish,
darting, dazzling, and great whales

in cold green depths below. The gulls
have played along its crest, harsh cries
rising, fading, filled with tales
forever lost to the horizon.

Sky and waters, tumult, tempest;
ships that labored against a vast
and timeless ocean — all these has
it seen, and then warm tropic currents,

stars that blazed in constellations
unsuspected on northern coasts.
To strive here, crash against the painted
coral reefs is destiny,

to gather strength, rush from the deep,
and broken, reach an end, at last.
The sand has heard it all before;
it lets the foam slip back, and away

Stephen Brooke ©2016

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