The Wind ‘Neath the Waves

I thought it only fitting that the first poem I put on this blog be the first full poem I ever wrote. Here it is. I applied pen to paper for some time before even considering penning a poem. Then finally, on a flight from Montana back to Virginia, these words came out. As per the usual with my writing, there was essentially zero editing necessary.

The Wind ‘Neath the Waves

The wind struggling ‘neath the waves is all,

and all is it,

the children of the sea reside,

below and adrift.

Each person a breeze,

a gasp and a breath,

drowning with restlessness,

never to be quenched.

Like a nightingale waning,

in a blustery nor’easter,

or a philosopher entombed,

the oppression of certitude.

A search incomplete,

a knowledge unattained,

needy eyes glimpsing light,

through crawling tears.

The wind ‘neath the waves is all,

and all is it,

the children of the sea reside,

below and adrift.

Searching for life,

whilst in life itself,

truth unrecognizable,

yet possession demanded.

When the weight of uncertainty crushes

the thrill of discovery,

when resistance is futile and

repulsion necessity,

when the buoy of hope passes,

the reality of existence,

then the sea walls of sincerity extinguish

the wind ‘neath the waves.

The wind is all,

and all is it.

the children of the sea reside,

below and adrift.

Only the sailors know,

their unbearable privilege,

the rest are beneath surging,

twixt Jones and gulls.

Contentment for some,

adrift in their unknowing,

others burst forth frothy,

white rises to the light,

but most surge and most ebb,

the vast swells of life.

The wind ‘neath the waves is all,

and all is it,

when the wind ‘neath the waves ceases,

ceases life itself.

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