New Beginnings Poem by Tom Billsborough

The tailless serpent wakes,
Its vast flanks quake,
Flexing its muscles.
Newly adorned, its bright scales
Glisten as the Dawn scatters its seeds.
The Moon reaps with rhyming waves
As they rear towards me.
Predication of dreams!
The sea insinuates
Its sibilant language
Around our heaving cables
And our passive bows.
We should be elsewhere
But we choose to stay
Within the matrix of our being,
Swaying within the immense womb.
It is our fate, our great compulsion,
To celebrate with anthems
This, our conscious being.