An
eternal silence beneath
the
surface of the wave, moves
untroubled
by the crashing
sound
above, moves forward,
always
forward. The line
of
sight compresses
to
a infinite point
where
the four converge:
four
corners of sand,
of
sea, of shore, of air;
four
boundaries of earth
of
air, of fire, of water.
Four
winds blow unseen.
Four
horsemen gallop
unheard
and unhearing.
Four
muses cry unanswered
and
ignored, the cries emptying
into
a wave of silence.
Tweetspeak
Poetry has a poetry
prompt this week, and it’s about waves reaching the shore. To see more
poems submitted for the prompt, please visit Tweetspeak
Poetry.
Photograph by Petr Kratochvil via Public
Domain Pictures. Used with permission.
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