Grace

Simple tho’ the waves retain their calling of the shore,
they bath in love’s inflection, reflected through the wanting more,
in constant gentle lapping, in soft seduction’s kiss,
they fold, unfold, recede to rise with purpose toward a dreaming bliss.

Coyly how the wind implies its gentle hush between the trees,
whose leaves reply in simple chime, quaking in the rhythm’s breeze,
yet holding fast exhilaration torn between the mounting gusts
that bear the point of rushing love, that blend the balm of forest’s must.

Lonely how the night awakes when to a full moon’s rise it bends
horizon’s light to welcome home that love the night will bright transcend,
and yet again as daybreak threatens night’s sweet secrets held,
it shades the sky in lover’s red and hints of lonely love now quelled.

Sorely how this nature’s want reaches through each passing phase
of light and wind and sea’s emotion surmounting all the lonely plays
that ride on every moment, that hold each flashing point in light,
that dream a dream of exultation, granted by their living right
to love, to want, to feel embrace
and through their own sweet blessing grant this living planet grace.