The years come and go;
still so much to know
but like the sea deposits wares
on the stubborn shore
so knowledge makes its encroach
But like the shore I’m set beneath
life’s prevailing norms
and there comes a dig and bury
of life’s mystery.
The shore, you see, can’t understand
why the wares no longer new
appear as brand new treasures
when used and then abused
by this life and times.
And the shore cannot roll aside
but instead must suffer every day
the deposits by the sea
brought forward from the depths.
Still so much to know; the years come and go
but soon perhaps the shore will be
a complete and true composite
of treasures from the deep
to make of every grain of sand
a rare and sparkling entity.
Soon, soon? How soon before the shore
changes from the same, same old,
and becomes like my adored
treasured for the depths
hidden beneath the flesh?