Ocean tales

The mainland has disappeared

in the horizon.

There is only the ocean, the ship, us

and the sun’s golden reflections on the waves.

The ships leaves white foamy scars

on the face of the ocean.

She heals slowly

only her heart remains in a following unrest

till the last screams of the machinery

has come to silence.

Then the darkness takes her over

and her children will sleep.

We will be trapped in faint memory.


One day soon we will perish
be gone in a instant
like the foam from a broken wave.

The study of the ocean
heals any broken veins
my heart may own.


In this, our lifetime,
will we be oceanists?
understand or at least observe it rhythm?


~ by Aquatic Poetry on October 3, 2009.

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