Something of the Sea

by James Sands

I know nothing of the sea,
one part wave, three parts mystery,
nothing of the life beneath,
nothing of its creatures,
the sharks and the dolphins,
the whales–where they go
and why they beach
to be burned on a pyre
of sand by the sun
like dead Vikings on fire

I know nothing of the sea,
the albatross as it spirals over
the vast expanse
of the north Pacific Gyre,
no longer fit for ambergris
but mermaid’s tears instead,
nothing of the indomitable spirit,
if God is an immortal invention
or a deeply gliding denizen, judging
what can and cannot be forgiven

I know nothing of the sea,
the cliffs that rise above the cove,
the precipitous fall
that waits below,
if the churning waters
speak of origins
or just a final resting place;
I only know,
as I stand on the shore,
the sea knows something of me

photo credit: Crystal Sands