I look out on a gushing Ocean,
Of foaming white waves with dark black crests,
Dilapidating the wind with it’s crushing,
And its clawing at the rocky cliffs.
What happened to the cove,
Now filled with the salty swirlings of the Ocean?
Was it the pollution of the cities?
Or perhaps the pollution of the individual?
Often the barbarians come to cry out to the Sea,
Wishing boastful wishes and adding to the torrents.
Others dive into the sea, devoting their lives,
What would it be if we would stop kindling,
The fiery heart of the Sea?
Perhaps if we ceased our devotions to Her,
And focused on other deities, we could see calmer waters.
Oh and how grand this Sea would be!
It would swell just below the cove,
So the passerby could admire its grandeur,
Could admire its new residual nature.
The foreign, mocking gulls overhead would have no forbearing,
On the future of this Ocean’s temperament.
No longer would the Sea remain of white foam and dark water,
But of a fertile green and calm horizon.
This is the nation of every oceanic enthusiast,
Who wishes to cease the treading of divided waters,
And sail to a new, united horizon.