The Idea of Order at Key West
She sang beyond the genius of the sea. The water never formed to mind Of man’s incessant search, where he looks, and fears. What is to be found is not what he looks for. Beauty above beauty shon on her.
The own voice of the sea, that was her chorus, Meaningfully she made a presence Upon the beach, undulating, rocking places. She sang at the edge of the sea.
The world conformed to her like a mouth. It was in her arms she sang, far away from here, And when she paused, there was silence in the sun. It was not a voice, nor a feeling against the air.
Her voice of order, voice of form, Of lost thing, abandoned voice, in itself, found nothing.
She sang at the edge of the sea.
- Wallace Stevens