No Fishermen Were Out That Day,
Their Nets And Lines Were Dry,
No Distant Sails Were To Be Seen,
Nor Surfers On The Waves,
Just Wind And Spray, Wild Wind And Spray,
Cold Wind Hard In My Face.
The Wet Sand Lay Impassively
My Footprints Stretched Away,
But The Ocean Covers Everything
All Trace Of Yesterday,
Or The Last Hour, Without A Care,
Just Washes It Away.
I Stood So Bleakly On The Beach,
The Sea-Wind In My Face,
My Spirit Crushed By Angry Words,
Hung Limp Upon A Thread,
My Soul Was Like The Teeming Surf
And Every Hope Seemed Dead.
I Stood There Empty And Alone
As Hollow As A Cave,
Waiting For Some Unknown Fate,
To Carry Me Away,
And Then I Saw It Foaming In,
A Mighty Curling Wave.
By Cold Sea-Wind It Hurled At Me,
I Could Not Hold It Back,
The Moment Hung Hard In The Wind,
There Was No Turning Back,
I Was Alive, I Did Exist,
Right There Upon That Beach.
All That Existed Lived In Me,
I Waited For The Wave,
The Past Was Gone, The Future Came,
But Neither Stood With Me,
I Stood Alone, And Then I Saw
The Seagull In The Wind.
It Hovered There Above The Surf
And Time Stood Strangely Still,
As If The Bird Had Caught The Wave
And Held It By Its Will,
The Curling Wave, The Roaring Wave,
And Everything Was Still.
.
The Seagull Stilled The Curling Wave
With Soaring Curving Flight
And Time Stood Still Upon Its Wing
It Soothed The Ocean’s Might,
And Held In Awe, In Silent Awe,
My Soul Came Back To Life