Down in that dip beneath what I see
waves of memory wash over me
and sometimes they cool my restlessness
to leave me refreshed and perfectly calm.
Then there are times when the waves are wild
and toss me about like a piece of driftwood
but I must be that because life cut asunder
the good and honest, the true meaningful.
Driftwood of course has no memory;
it’s just a thing discarded, useless,
with no “inside” to dictate the times
of good to bad or laughter to frowns.
No wishing, no hoping, no longing to be
a piece of driftwood can ever ere be
and so in that dip there’s work in progress
to calm those, oh, so very wild waves.
Come on waves, come hither to me,
calm like the day before knowing love!