The Silent Wave

In the great need for silence
the sound of water
low and high tones
in its race across stones
that bump and thump
in the dark night.
And the voices that sometimes
speak from the curls and eddy
a stray line of remembrance
some phrase from the past
as if someone is really speaking
and you think
you've heard a voice
when it's only water
it's holy movements
speaking of past lives
telling us of the people
who played in it's reflections
stared as it passed them on a shore
on the edge of it universe of cycles
the waves of water that wash over death
the pounds of water that smooth rock to sand
and soon it all becomes
a blur in the background
a constant drone of submergence
the play of drum, string and voice
horns of drops and slides of invisible bones
down which we travel to a forgiving sea
sometime in our future sometime
as it all goes away through
valleys and canyons
stripping the flesh
from this loving earth
from this lonely imperfect body


Copyright © 2011 by Barry G. Wick