Edge of the Sea

Edge of the Sea

Like the foaming lip of the waves of the sea,

Crashing and pulling back, taking with its titanic blue,

The footprints of strangers who, in their own wake,

Walked upon the sands that rest on time.

Like the devil’s own man, who falls into God’s hands,

The one who turns his head to reminisce the roads,

To remember the treaded sands,

But instead, sees the priceless yet ignorant youth,

Dragged across the lines of time’s own hands.

Is the ocean time’s equal? Nature’s own parody?

The way it destroys our castles,

As time takes away our fashioned dreams?

The ocean builds and tares apart,

It ages and fashions its deepest heart,

And when I make to turn back again,

I see all that you’ve made me change.

We can never go back, because time moves on,

Crashing, rolling, a voice of strong and might,

Of weakness and strength, dark and light,

Is the ocean one color?

Or does it shift in the light, does it glow in the sky?

And likewise, are we spilt into one?

Are we sin or goodness? Heaven or hell?

The ocean alters and changes,

Its colors shed, its feeling swing,

But it must always be the ocean.

It will never change to be the sand,

It is was it has been created to be.

The goodness in which we have been made,

And the evil in which we have helpless to stay,

All the words in the world while pass before the flickering eyes,

Crossing the bar to the edge of the sky.

Our lives –within its storms and calms,

Its marks and footprints washed away,

Oceans of time lapse into silence,

Footprints will sink into the sand.

But the hands that graced to forma them all to be,

Will onward live,

Beyond the edge of the sea.