I once stood amidst the silence
of a shore, tormented, but alone –
till a grasp unknown to me
in the grains of golden sand
made me weep till tighter clasp
relinquished surf and all it owned.
On the horizon I saw such dreams,
all of which I could not keep,
till a grasp unknown to me,
slept through my fingers from the deep.
lies inside stone
embedded in mountains,
securing roots in noiseless cracks,
The moon has cast its shadow
on the cradle of water
beneath its heavy sighs.
Where the silver depths have risen
and broken lines have been crossed
and lap over the divide,
lucidity brushes against the grit
of shores; touched by the rocking
motion’s of its arms, they
are kept from waking.
Waves crash and wrap
their feathered shawl around
new beginnings. New tides,
urgent and strong, are eager
to leave again and begin
a journey – a voyage of their own –
attempting escape before being thrown
mercilessly, and scattered on rocks
of uncertain point.