The Ocean Breaks

April 29 2019

The ocean breaks.

Surf exploding

against impregnable rock.

And the steady lap

of wave after wave

against the gently sloping sand,

expending its last gasp of strength

then falling meekly back.

Its hypnotic beat,

as insistent as a pulse

as regular as breathing.

The primordial sea, beginning with a single cell;

as salty as blood

vital as life itself.

The relentless drip-drip-drip

of waves against the shore,

the seconds counting off

as my time is counting down.

And the permanence of rocks

a little further out,

a jagged palisade

glistening black and grey

against the constant battering.

Which I know

will eventually wear away,

the power of water

molecule by molecule

day after day.

But over such a vast span of time

it is beyond understanding;

a theoretical number of years

that has no more meaning

than sounding out the words.

The inexhaustible sea,

and my flitting appearance

here on earth.

Two clocks, running side by side

I cannot reconcile.

The big rolling breakers,

crashing against

eternal rocks,

the cool spray

the salty tang

the deep tectonic shudder.

And the metronomic swell,

lulling me

into sweet relaxation

as it measures out my time.

A trail of footprints

across the hard-packed beach.

And the unstoppable tide

that overnight

washes sand clean.