The Tenth Wave

THE TENTH WAVE



The rain drops prick the skin of the sea
Tumble with the urchins in the water,
The black water, so heavy, tired--
Watching it tic tac toe in millions of tiny rings
Tic tac toe, three by three by three 
Up until infinity--
As scores of seagulls watched from buoys 

Red sky at night, sailor's delight
Isn't that how it goes?
All hands on deck! All hands! 

Until then came, out of the night sky, a wind
With the sound and fury of a thousand black horses 
Pummeling down on the water, the great, fearsome ocean
And stirring it up like a bowl of soup

 All hands!  

The great boats all groaned in protest, 
Their wet, wooden bellies full 
Reeds choking shores uprooted and flew at the storm

The whole world seemed to be feeding the storm, 
Which would not be satiated, but howled for more
Chunks of earth, wood, sail, even human souls
Would not appease such an appetite

And then, in the pulse of three hours, a brief
Quiet...

...an aching silence 
where the sun deceived them
By shirking off the clouds for a moment
Hear the call of the birds... 

Red sky at morning, at morning, at mourning

It was then that the waves began-- 

Undulating at first, feel the water breathe, 
Soon rising, rising, black towers 
Into walls of water no one could scale,
Ripping across the top in violent zig-zags 
White madness, the open mouth-

-and they came, they came in rows
As tall as nightmares, even hungrier than the wind 
And they ate up everything they touched, 
Swallowing lives, swallowing that which made them 
Pulling our dwarfed armies into the deep, deep 
Dark, black salt water 
Until then, after the herald, and the birds didn't sing anymore 
A tenth wave, which rose colossal over the rest, 
Moving like a lost city,
Over the darkness, a shadow covering this world
Silenced what was left to be silenced 



 Little sailors  
 Little  sailors  
 All sailor's songs end  
 And On the Land 
Your little wives  
Will catch your songs on the wind 
 Will pick up those songs on the winds
Copyright © | Year Posted 2015

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Ober Avatar
November 5, 2015 at 11:10 AM
WOW, Jeremy. The growing intensity of this poem blows my mind. You have perfectly captured the fickle strength of nature. Nothing can compare.
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