For the Sea

A poem

The ocean wrinkles not from age
But motion, invention, the fountain of youth.
Left behind, sand with its collective memory
Imitates the beloved sea’s
Susurrations and patterns.

Beyond the beach’s edge, where the sea
Continually folds into itself,
I embark and press toward the world’s
Roaring machinery to look at glints
In the sand and stars alike.
I sail into the open ocean,
Sliding like a letter opener cutting
The seal of surface tension.
I open the void below,
Where the abyss swallows sunlight.
I open the void above,
Where singularity drowns time itself.
Artificial boundaries of form
Melt away before the primordial face:
All those dark materials,
The shape of chaos,
The glittering in the deep.
Deep love stirs, and the sea cuts
Me to the heart with knapped obsidian waves.