Too long stranded in the air, the land loves
the innocence of the incoming sea,
perfectly she ascends to fill its loss
of ground in a swell of blue energy.
Land lies under life and cannot come up
or close against the rain of sound and touch,
has to absorb night and day, leaves and bone,
take them below to where the air stores time.
In coils of wave, winding in dance, the sea
is too fluent to feel its own silence,
only for the sure gaze and grip of shore
it would not know itself to be the sea.
Held for a while, the sea is satisfied,
then she pulls her silk of water away
into the independence of blue;
shawls of weed fall off, show how tide chews rock.