Wanderer.

I crave the sea—
Its bestial waves,
That crash against
Rock and rudder,
Like untamed leviathans
Give me peace.
And when winter comes,
Fog may too,
Following eagerly
Like a crawling babe,
Shrouding everything
From time, to death.

I look to my palms—
Inanimate, consumed by cold,
As a rhapsody of spray and surf
Cloaks and comforts.
Will you walk with me,
And look to the shags as they dive?
Study the limpets as they gather
Like neolithic jewels?
Feel the once molten rock beneath your foot;
Its contours, its power?

Remember this encircling aura
Of a stillness, primordial and aged,
As you embrace the looming,
Thickened immateriality
Beyond.