The Sea Ward
What of the sea,
that lends its tacit form,
like druids of the night
that heaves a heavy shore?
Might I clamor it’s doldrum manner
sink to its floor and stir
lively the depths, the mines
of it’s will,
bring to shallows an unbridled storm,
the waking eye,
a trembling fist
and rage to the very heart
— the tempest!
No, when far more can a soul thrive
in the calm breaths
of its peaceful sigh.
shifting 