Working toward sainthood this summer solved some of my problems. For one, my daily-Mass-going mother got off my back about getting a job and moving out permanently. Plus, it gave her something to brag ... [+]
So are the waves of the sea
Meekness and respect at low tide
Passion and strength at high
Should, I wonder, the sea long for that feeling?
The intimacy of connecting to the sands
Alas, it cannot be high tide always
As the sands need their separation
Devotedly the sea respects its wishes
regressing away into low tide
How, I ask, can the sea contain itself
Longing, wanting, desiring, needing
The feeling of high tide once again?