The Sea - Poem by William Jackson
In successive swells the tide peaks
and then slowly subsides,
only to begin again;
For the sea ebbs and flows
with a rhythm all her own,
sighing above the din
of her commotion,
with the shore.
Unabashedly her waves pulsate,
raking furrows into earthen flesh.
Only the on looking moon
can pull her back,
and this little by little
and lap by lap.
And all the while
the outstretched strand
reclines beneath the ever crashing surf
riding her undulations relatively undisturbed,
interrupted only by the jealous whispers of the wind.
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