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∴

how is it that the sea
can swirl in it’s treasure,
cloaking cities underneath,
swallowing wealth
with gasping slurgs of gulp and wave,

and i pass by –

i pass by –
enchanted only by the sand
and it’s feel on my feet?

 

how is it that the earth
can build and crumble
and force and yield –
endlessly flower and feed

and i pass along –

i pass along –
with my head in the clouds,
as they say?

 

how is it that i
can be surrounded by so much abundance
and feel in possession of one thing only?

it is so small inside me –
so quiet and kept –
but it’s there,
in all it’s uncelebrated victory.

 

what remuneration do i give to the flesh,
if not sagacious strength?
what recompense do i give to breath,
if not my simplest words
said with sincerest regard?
what requital do i give to blood, if not tears?

tears

of joy,
of sorrow,
of witness,
of hope in tomorrow

of salt
and water –

it is all that i am –
a small, serous bounty –
molecules moving in mercurial sway
and searching always

for the sea.

∴

 

 

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