Tag Archives: ocean

At Risk of Drowning

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Her skies have darkened just as times before,
Only now she’s not haunted by the night.
Gazed upon the ocean, yet stayed ashore,
Her tired excuse: the fading of days light.
She was born on this rock it’s enough to
Die on. Knowing there is more she arose.
In this way those years ashore she’ll undo;
Leaving her rock, to reflect what she’s chose.
She may fall down or be crushed by the waves,
Many times she’ll face the risk of drowning.
No matter the end this is how she’ll behave,
Always she’ll arise from floundering.
I only know this because she survived,
And from her example my hope revived.

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Beside Roses

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A call from wind and windings within
And tangled bellows show,
What was prized above all else
The mirrored echos towed.
All through the mire of the night
And dawn awaiting there,
No stops for me, my love, mustn’t tarry
Beside the roses in still cold air.
The morning sun may catch my back and bathe me in its light,
My face on and forward, forgetting previous nights.
Several days have found me searching,
Wandering through the fog and waters.
Every path is just: ‘one more turn’
Every turn, a dead end I’ve followed.
Until the morning I awake to the bitter taste of real.
You’re gone.
And the ocean of oblivion I long to pull you from,
In vain to bargain with echos your memory fading becomes.
I will wake one day no longer, and before that day comes,
It will be as I remember.
Beside the roses in the sun.

Cities Crumble

When cities crumble after skies fall down,
A curious sun shines upon ruins.
I stand on oceans edge, dead ground.
One won’t see death here for bright day akin
To a cemetery, dry bones, and sin.
Cities crumble and leave no clouds behind,
No churches, or temples we’ve to hide in.
Nothing I see above that’s silver lined.
One doesn’t see God’s hand, raising up storms,
And torching the land. We mustn’t cry out:
“The gods! The gods!”. We’re to blame. On this shore,
I meet the sand and the waves, still with doubt,
God in His heaven, all’s right with the world.
I look on, as this too becomes unfurled.

What the Waves Teach 

Tiny cracks, tiny fractures in the sand.
Tracks: an arrow, pointing to the culprit.
Impermanence of pain felt by this land,
And with the tide comes memories forfeit.
Into the sunset one or two may go,
Leaving behind a stamp on the day fair,
Revisiting this day later to show,
There are none like it, no, none do compare.
This day and that, like beads on strings, endless.
Are they aware how fragile, made of glass
Are beads on the universes necklace?
Each day adds another that will not last.
Our days: numbered; grains of sand on the beach,
Beside times ocean, we must learn what the waves teach.

Stationary

In an end unto our own
Tells not the knell for whom to toll
When endangered, runs from home
One forgets to secure the soul.
Up all hours, a sleepless night,
No rest until dawn, none till twilight.
There is none to be found, why seek?
It is as unreachable as the moons keep.
The ship that is sleep brings no rest
Though it ferries you to dawn,
The waves it rides, reveal at their crest,
You’ve been stationary in this ocean all along.

The False Comfort of Drowning

Under water all her breathing
Isn’t impossible as it seems. Rings
Out echos from the sown
Unknown borne of the abyssal below.
Then once more to the darkened spires,
Her climb, her flight, her pain inspired.
Descent is this? To the depths?
Sorting through what memory’s kept.
Constantly trying to change inside:
The past; it’s long been fossilized.
So full of sorrow and full of stone,
She discards strength for gills so,
She hopes not for the surface and here,
At the bottom of the ocean it’s quite clear,
That she will never rise again unless,
She can rise to the surface and above this test.

A Question of Who


A crisis not of many words
And terrifying in its simplicity.
Approaches from behind the shadows
Cast by ones own identity.
“Who am I?” then “Who are you?”,
The better question arises.
The answer relative, in a vacuum of what society despises.
One cannot respond with their name,
Though that is all what is expected.
This excludes the discovery made while one sits calm, and collected.
Incomplete and not entirely untrue,
It is enough to sedate the curiosity.
The oceans surface like a name does not reveal its own entirety.
This cannot be answered by a question only of the surface.
Through quests of years, and trails of tears,
An outcome far from worthless.