is it takes effort
to stand still
silence is an elegy
for the dying light
and each breath
is a prayer
for those who move
along the stuttering
whiteness of flood-lit asphalt
away from the savannahs
of our origin
those smooth, descending
pastures to the sea.
so beautifully still, this descent.
The sea’s pull is something I have been really feeling of late. Such a quiet power.
G
I have to ‘fess up. I printed out your Fisherman Are Made By The Sea
poem and have it near my desk.
I was brought up in and around the sea, from a long line of fishermen, be I. There’s a lot to learn from the sea.
keep ‘em coming Graham!
When things start to get on top of me, I always head for the ocean. I look into it to measure the depth of my nature. Glad that poem has made it to your desk.