History, romantics and poets love her
She gets all the credit, she’s Majestic
But what about me; the dunes, reeds – the beach
My sand absorbs your turmoil
Each grain expanding to envelop your substance
Whispering to be calm and return to your roots
I can handle the rest
The wind rearranges me
So I am always ready for your fury and foam
Quickly hiding your chaos under a smooth and dark surface
My replenishment derived from your murky shallows
I reciprocate your curl
To effortlessly return you
Back to the darkness that makes you
Mysterious, and deadly
I am the bearer of your revisionist history
Showing only what you have released
Foreboding to some, intoxicating to others
- Inviting to those few, who your deep soul, is their final resting place of choice; consciously or unconsciously.
(Fenwick Island, Delaware)