Dear Sea

“Sitting at the tide’s bare feet, you offer me this gift.
You send me ferry and take me far adrift.
Asking if I like the salt or mist upon my skin,
You tell me stories of all the places you have been.
You call upon your friend, the Wind, and release a gentle breeze,
But you’re kindness I must say seems not much above a tease.
So tell me of the truth in this, tell me your desire,
Tell what such greatness as the Sea thinks he must acquire.”

“Oh land dweller I suppose I must admit,
what I seek is not a requirement, but I will say why, for you, I sent.
You see no one quite knows me well, though they think they have the clues.
No one knows my secrets quite like they think they do.
But you see, I’m old and I tire of keeping others’ lies.
I wish for you to take them where soldiers and children do thrive.”

“Lies, I have much of my own; I’d rather not accept.
I know there’s much beneath your blue cover; in that I am adept.”

“But wait dear friend, there is much more,
like treasures lost and king’s bodies beneath my floor.
To eat you shall never again be concerned.
I’ll give you fish, as many as your stomach yearns.”

“For this perhaps I would be grateful,
but of your past you seem forgetful.
If I were to bear your weight,
what of the wars; you hold dead soldier’s fates.
What should I do with a million broken hearts?
And your devious counterparts:
Hurricane and tsunami.
What on earth to do with these?”

“Fine art, I have been described as.”
“A twisted art, distorted and abstract.”

“What of the comfort I give you now?
I am not perfect I do avow.
But please, you must understand.
Though I am great and have claimed grand,
I do feel weak; my mind does omit,
so much to remember with no one to vent.”


“What about the wind; he is your friend.”
“But he wavers much, to hold my depth he is too thin.”

“What of your fish; to you they are devoted.”
“Indeed they are, but their minds are simple, while my past’s complicated.”

“What of Land himself; he is your neighbor.”
“Why, he was the first I asked.
With his many mountains and fields vast.
But he was quick to decline.
He claimed he was as old as I.
He said his ground like my floor,
was full of treasures and the dead from war.
He said he couldn’t bear his own weight,
so alas I was born and must live my own fate.”

“Well in that I agree. Dear Ocean, I fear,
that your greatness and vigor make you, your own heir.
You did not choose to be so large, and yet you are.
You did not choose to cause so many deaths, and yet skeletons sink far.
You did not ask to pull down ships; alas, they sit at your feet.
Though you tire, the world will not allow you this cheat.”

“Oh land dweller, how I envy truth,
and how it wins over lustful tries no matter how uncouth.
But truth you speak and clear I hear it,
And to it I must submit.
I return you now to where young tides do play,
and deep within, my secrets shall stay.”