The sea can seem still from a distance
but its true form is movement, listen:

From the edge of the dunes, stood in the lands
bordering the grass and the dust and the sand
you may not always be able to see
the trillion dancing pyramids; the surface can seem

But standing in the shallow surf
with the ocean sucking your toes, and her verse;
dragging pebbles along the soles of your feet

But leaning over rusted bars
at the back of a ferry, starting to tire
as the whole body vibrates underneath you, and with you
as you stare into the engine spray

But sitting, pale and sick, at the fore
of a sailing boat, one mile’s distance from shore
and the waves draw back and roll away
piling amongst each other, and sinking you
until you can’t tell the horizon:

Movement reveals itself as her essence.
You could say stillness is the symptom of distance.
For calm is a relative term: listen:

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Send your life out in multiple directions like a galaxy shedding stars. Always come back to hope and try to thrive. All posts, (poems, stories, essays, etc.) here are composed by my hand, unless noted otherwise. Please ask if you'd like to use one.

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