Tide

I was with the tide this eve:  

crash on crash on cliff and shoal

thundered up as foam and drop,  

violence and vibrance one.  

Ocean broken into  

pearls, weightless,

for a moment’s grace,  

incandescent from within…

then cascading back to source,  

low into the undertow,  

down into the deep, deep, deep—

always dancing with the moon,  

whose luminance shimmers

between dark and dark.  




—Genève Gil