Left in its wake
I, the land look longingly out to sea.
The lady of beauty and mystery
Taps gently on this lonely lover's shore.
Where land turns to sand, hear the light lapping waves
On the rugged rocks now yearning for attention.
What roaring heights of sea the monsoons bring!
What valiant shouts when met with gaia's might!
Yet seasons pass - a still, left in their wake.
Uneasy calm - all too quiet again.
Hear not the sea recede, avoiding far
The laments of the cold, broken boulders.
No sound of waves nor waves of sound be heard again!
For the sea has returned not the earth's call to bliss,
But left in its wake, a brittle stone heart.
