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Like an overwhelming force of nature,
it draws you near to the edge.
Is it the sight of land's end-
with cold liquid fingers
that impishly grab for your toes?
Perhaps it is the rushing sound
droning against your mind
in an eerie calm.
Walls collapsing in a soothing rush
draining resistance
in the backward surges.
Standing
with empty pockets
I try to envision the end of it all.
Just drag in the aqueous calm-
down into your lungs.
Let the salt sting
and the sand softly grind.
Let the bountiful magnificence
throw you back
and turn over and over
in the cold breeze at dusk
and know with all that is within you
that the ocean forgives.
copyright 2003
Dave
Nordling |
