thursday afternoon

Today the sound of the sea is enough.
The song seems translucent, and the wind, silver. I hear the softness of the waves,
and their relentless effort, sinking until they turn invisible.

The sun helps. Swirling amid the trellises formed by the moving water.

I write in the hope that my internal self can match the scene. Persistent, but calm.
Strong, but soft. Endless, and still all encompassing.

The sea echoes in response, and the focus shifts. It calls out, and simultaneously
sings, “…Whoosh, phutoooosh, crackle crackle, whooosh.” And today,

this is enough.