finds the nights too long, too still,
lacking the rush and draw of wave,
or feels the eye cheated by the dark,
the sharp sky-crowding rise of hill.
But yet the wind of sea will run
the length of valleys and be here
sudden and full of space and wide
waters all leaping with the sun.
11
EBB TIDE
The tide will claim this shallow curve of sand
here where the thin waves curl and creep and die.
See – in this river no deeper than my hand
the young crab, pale and calico, slips by
into a safer, less tempestuous sea.
The eel, as silver and as quick as steel,
answers the sun; one moment he is free,
then the bird drops: a brief white circling wheel
cleaving the air, to splash, complete the arc;
the waters flicker, close, and leave no mark.
Take now this era, while the lengthening bars
stretch in the tawny shoals along the shore;
soon the sure rhythm of the moon and stars
will send the pliant waters in once more.
12
WINTER COAT
Gulls on the lonely beach
under the brooding sky;
over the darkened marsh
one gray gull’s cry.
Wrack strewn upon the strand,
shards from the summer sea;
ripples from rising tide
creeping to me.
Winter is on the air,
sand drifted like the snow;
all the cold sky above,
sorrow below.
Boarded and silent wait
window and shuttered door.
Oh, will the summer joy
waken no more?
Summer of all mankind,
harvest from field and sea –
shattered and blown away –
no more to be?
Oh, but the promise lies
safe in His waiting hand;
sunrise again shall light
shimmering sand!
13
AT THE SHORE
Out of the black pool of sleep
the broken images like scattered sunlight
merge into morning, and I wake.
Here where the sea beats unangered
the gray gulls waddle along in the gray misty morning
and rise on white wings over the white sea
transformed into grace in their own element.
Must we take lessons always from everything –
gulls fat and ridiculous dabbling their feet in the tide-pool,
gulls flying sublime with the sunlight silver upon them?
Better return to sleep and waken prosaic.
We were meant to both dabble and soar,
and even the loveliest wings get weary.
14
STALKING A GULL
With stealthy step they stalked the greedy gull.
A noose they laid around the tempting bread
and waited, breathless, while with stately tread
the old bird on the sand came closer. Wait!
Will he be fool enough to seize the bait?
Ah, clever bird! No boy bamboozles him –
he rises slightly and on fluttering wing
seizes the bread and veers off down the beach.
The sprung noose dangles empty. Out of reach
over the waves the sagacious seagull flies
with taunting laughter in his raucous cries.
II
Love and Longing
15
Now that my love has come I see the reason;
now I answer its demand;
it was here always just beyond my vision
waiting for your lifted hand.
It has the width of sea, the depth of shadow;
it holds the storm wind wild and strong,
and light drawn thin to stars in the sweep of heaven
and the prow’s clear water-cleaving song.
16
My dear, I do not love you as you think,
not half in mirth, nor briefly, but forever.
Grant me some power to mend my imperfections;
admit me strength to make one long endeavor.
I am not all the surface gloss you think;
I
