The distant tanker will soon fall off the horizon of life, <br />now blurred by the haze of distance and then swallowed <br />by the roundness that hides our future. <br />The trawlers float across the bay then, behind the headland, <br />modern hunters that will fill our plates; <br />life consuming life. <br /> <br />Close to shore the children play on lilos, <br />bobbing up and down on the surf <br />and splashing in the foam of waves which hurry <br />towards an invisible fulfillment as they give up their form <br />and merge back into the depths. <br /> <br />We stand here on the beach, <br />and watch; <br />the gulls hang motionless on Earth’s great breath <br />and compelled by a natural hunger <br />prepare to dive beneath the surface of the ocean. <br /> <br />We, silent, motionless, resting on the wind <br />with a hunger deep within; <br />the nets pull us back to the surface <br />as the waves foam and swell in our minds. <br /> <br />The sand under bare feet crumbles away <br />and becomes pools of still, salt water; <br />an ocean’s teardropp for each passing imprint, <br />soon forgot.<br /><br />David Taylor<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/oceans-teardrops/
