The Shore Poem by Etienne Charilaou

Waves breaking on the shore
rolling smoothly over my feet
the water has caught me
in its gentle embrace
but it doesn't hold on
withdrawing a while
then rushing up the sand again
for another kiss

Oh, kiss rolling on and on with the ripples
For whom it'll be back like the passionate sea
Sky over sky and clouds over clouds that belong to heaven
Kisses on the crest of wave are not scenery but fantasy

continuous roar of the ocean
people walking on the shore
so small, tiny specks,
infinity swallows them -
they vanish - in my mind's eye
we are all no more;
then I see them again:
people on the shore
walking to and fro.
After a long day's work
calmness can be restored.

Compassion reasserts itself
for the other captives.

The stories on the shore are varied
The heart of the sea holds only one colour
Strangers leave their sallow footprints in the sand
Waves throw their roaring cries to the fish
Nothing seems solid - sand is too loose
Nothing will stop long - memory will disappear
The stories on the shore are torn by the tidal wind
Yet the heart of the sea is never broken in his stories.

I catch sight of the moon
in the first quarter so soon;
and also two birds,
beaks buried in feathers.

Though it's not surprising
I find my wonder rising.
Words of sages who have seen
are a refrain ever-beckoning.

At the centre of everything
there is this being, me,
and so it is for all beings
who from their own eyes see.

That all things are temporary
no one can argue to the contrary.
Everything occurs at its time;
just like this little rhyme.

Soon the beach will empty,
all will be warm at home.
Wild then the shore will be,
with secrets unknown to poem.