The Sea Is History

Where are your heroes, where are your saviors, Wisdom in the shadow of the desires That twist in vain for season’s terms. Old mother country, why do you Cry? Do you weep, perhaps, for the past, When sailing ships lit our horizon, When, beneath their quilts of mottled sails, Like the great drawn breath of the world, You harnessed me to the sea, and I, too, Danced with the ocean in your arms?

Is this nature, muzzle of seasons through Breaks and falls, A kaleidoscope that spins in the tides Of desperation and the bpyscological. Where are your ships, your visions? Where are Your shores? If only you could hear the salt of the Sea!

• Derek Walcott