The sea casts stones, shells, driftwood on the beach,
then drags them back.
Its blue horizon dazzles white with sails,
and then turns black.
Weaving and unweaving its long green shroud, the sea
makes and unmakes.
Its wrinkled mirror, nearing the shore, curls up,
crests white, and breaks.
Caught in that endless surge of foam, faith ages,
love turns grey.
Hope outreaches hope. The rock-cliffed shore
is worn away.
Come back, my love, come back!--though changed by that wayward deep
that changes all things.
The sea bird lands and rests upon rocking waves--
then spreads his wings.
Copyright 2010-2012 Paul Petrie