Updated: Sep 7, 2019
Behind a doleful pane of glass I prayed for you to call. The pilgrims taking bread at mass were swells beneath a squall.
Outside they kissed a barren coast just as I yearned for you. Unlike the surf that seemed to boast my hopefulness withdrew.
The breakers were so dark and gray and soon they lost their will, drowning the bright and sunny days in dreams never fulfilled.
My tears still clung to tufts of grass as seas renounced the sand. The empty beach would now contrast the eddies far from land.
My despair also took its leave. The tide would not prevail. A joyous moon could never grieve while mending broken sails.
Just like the waves all good things pass. They seem so far and few. But sad times also do not last while ceaseless oceans do.
- September 30, 2015. -