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Poem

At the end of the sea and start of the sand
there lies a place; a place where we stand
and watch the sea go from shore to shore
in an endless tide; that for so long before
the grass was tall and the wind was blowing,
has been moving like the sea - the sea; ever flowing.

And the stories of time, though it has no effect;
on this endless sea, it will always reflect,
on its blue surface and from deep below;
those stories of time is what it will show
to those who look - who look and stay
long enough to see Forever beneath that white spray.

Have you seen the blue shores? Have you seen
the endless sea flowing like out of a dream?
I can't say I have; or that I understood
what it was trying to tell me best that it could
while I was standing out there; but still I did try, 
as dark clouds came over and covered the sky.

When it rains on the sea, this you should know: 
The sea becomes black and the harsh winds blow, 
while the waves get larger and much taller too; 
it is a frightening sight, frightening for you; 
as for me, I was terrified beyond all my words,
 as I looked up I saw a flock of birds
flying away, to where - I can't say,
wherever they go when it rains on the sea like today.

And then, seeking cover, I was soon again dry; 
and sooner than that out from the dark sky
there came light from the sun, which I greeted
with shouts of joy as the rain retreated.
Back beyond the horizon while the winds dropped
to a breeze, and the great waves stopped
their barrage on the newly-flooded sand, 
leaving only a small place for me to stand.

And there I stood until Forever had passed
and I had seen it; then turning at last
back up to the road where civilization lay,
and that's where I walked, and walked away,
from that great sea, that sea ever going
from shore to shore - that sea ever flowing.

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