Power
It is the sea
what speaks to me
muffling sounds from seagulls’ wings,
and children’s voices running over sand.
Today the whiteness of a hovering cloud marks
the points where stars will appear
tonight.
The moon playing catch up with the sun
leans on that single cloud
hoping
under the shade of a pine tree that she’ll succeed
I smile.
Timid waves lick pulverized gold
for a while,
before picking up momentum
forcing the undercurrent
to churn seaweeds, hope, hostility and love inside the waters.
Calm returns,
a blanket of silver blinds me,
such power I’ve seen,
such beauty
we both carry,
if only we knew how to harness it.
The Writers
A roaring sea covers the fury
of strong winds rushing to shore,
the sideways steps of starfish
and also, the voices of children
paired with murmurs of danger,
but I’m not afraid.
On the line of foam whipping the beach
I stand,
my bare feet welcome the coolness,
while sandpipers draw stars
with their triangle digits
I write a message on the sand
with a stick,
hoping You’ll read it.
No comments:
Post a Comment