He wakes with a veil of fading orange sunset falling over his face. Slowly, he raises a hand, twisting it through the shards of light. There are no callouses. No dry cracks of peeling skin. It is ... [+]
Swelling, falling, rising, crashing
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?
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?