Some things
Were born of the tempest
And their beauty lies
In the storm
Hands pocketed
Shoulders hunched
Voices hushed
They’re a beautiful sight
These denizens of stormy weather
There’s a strength
In their solemn wonder
Here where nature runs her course
Indifferent to the human presence
While the humans revel quietly
In hers
And the creatures
Which skittered there
Having barely left the sea
I think of a wave
And the littlest living things
Awash in the foaming ocean
Not so unlike
The littlest living things
Swishing over my feet in the surf
Near enough
And still enough
To experience
The arc of the ocean
An eddy of time
Reflected
In the eddies
Of the sea
Beyond horizons
Uncharted
Possibility
Gleams
While I gather mussels
To steam in seasoned water
For dinner and wine
With you, my love
While boats and whales
Ply the narrow channel
Not at all content
With her lowly lot
Seeks to climb the shore
Or sunders self
Evaporates
Obtains a cloudy high
Though just a mist (as liquid falls to Earth)
Flows back as river to the sea
Sullen
in demeanor
and intent
are they
Delight
do I
in the extremes
of existence
Pix to Words 