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Young Sea

The sea is never still.
It pounds on the shore
Restless as a young heart,
Hunting.

The sea speaks
And only the stormy hearts
Know what it says:
It is the face
         of a rough mother speaking.

The sea is young.
One storm cleans all the hoar
And loosens the age of it.
I hear it laughing, reckless.

They love the sea,
Men who ride on it
And know they will die
Under the salt of it

Let only the young come,
   Says the sea.

Let them kiss my face
   And hear me.
I am the last word
   And I tell
Where storms and stars come from.

~ Carl Sandburg


Alphabe Thursdays


Comments

  1. This is beautiful. The sea is a place that I shall never tire of. I love who I am when I am near it.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I need to get down to the sea...or the Gulf Of Mexico anyway. This time of year it's beautiful down there. I'm not young, but that's OK. Thanks for reminding me.

    ReplyDelete
  3. I love Carl Sandburg, especially:

    Fog

    The fog comes
    on little cat feet.

    It sits looking
    over harbor and city
    on silent haunches
    and then moves on

    His poems are Simple, deep, lingering.

    ReplyDelete

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