I have watched the waves
beat their way to the shore,
counting
35 long seconds of cresting
and rolling before
breaking upon the sand.
And I wonder standing here,
looking down
and numbering my years in scores
and tens,
whether the wave knows its
rolling, cresting weight
will break upon the shoreline
to retreat again.
To become reabsorbed into ocean
and its churning heaving mass.
The wave, having had its
35 seconds of fame,
its moment in the spotlight
of the moon.
After which, it is part again
of a body giving shape
to new waves
and journeys on the surface,
rolling and cresting
and shattering in the face of the sun.
And I wonder too if we realise
all our human strength
and illusioned might
is propelled by a force under us.
And like the wave we crest
and crash
with nothing to fear
but the embrace of an ocean beneath.
Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry
April 2022
Living Tree Poetry 