The Sea

How can I name you, like sea foam rise, or the soft comb of cloud; let me strive to touch this love’s steep tide? For the child is again; in a burst of hope, a cool net of thorns, a stretched hand warms;

turns from the winds, yet still to grow up in green night, for the sea, I can surrender; how sweet the cool waves come, salute the dawn and bring herbs new. Here is the touch of the Sea, which lightly falls, to help me rouse the sand again.

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