Untitled 7

From my balcony, I could view the Pacific

And watch the parade of majestic ships at sea.

Each day, the gentle waves

That rocked those fine ships

Along the coast,

Sent the bows ever higher,

Arrows aimed at the brow of God.


In the morning, as the sun’s glints pierced my eye

And drew me to the balcony once more,

The line of ships rose higher.

The horizon moved toward the sun,

And the crescent of light at the edge shone down,

A call from heaven to the sea,

A glimpse of eternity for man.


The sea was never satisfied,

Jealous of my perspective,

And reached higher as rain fell,

And the earth beneath my house quavered,

Fearful of the rage that grew within

The still waters of the great ocean,

Left cracked and raw, an affront to the view.


One morning I stepped outside,

Onto my balcony,

And though I could hear the loll of the waves above me,

I could see only mud.


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