Sunday, February 28, 2016

Their Timeless Might

The Oregon coast of which I boast
has vista views so vast, I cannot grasp
the miles of waves, the strips of white,
their foamy fate, their timeless might.
The barren sweeping throbbing waste,
slow motion ripples, anti-haste.

And though I cannot be here when
those motions send their undulations
through the glare, purring forth in
rarified air ten, a hundred thousand
years from now, still I know
how they will look and sound and feel
if eyes and ears and nerves remain.

And so I see the future in this thing
of which I boast, this craggy, cliffy,
windy, sunny, this eternal Oregon coast.