Through a perspex sheeting I can see
a massive ocean pushing out her strokes;
knowing, for a time, I won’t be caught
and pulled into her cold eternity.
With all the power sea invokes,
whitened by salt, let’s not fight!
Flight! This is no place for single human
power
and not because I’m older, slow in years,
unerringly losing dignity.
No! Because, unending, hour by hour,
those waves push into solid stone with
tears;
unlevelled water has no fear or pity.
Poet, move on! Feeling I will stand
inevitably
one day and turn back towards the flow;
against those tumblers’ sure retreat,
advance,
and so re-enter sweet eternity,
traveling fast but also, even, slow.
That day the waiting sea will take my
sense.
