The Sea is a tolerance poem, a reflection on how we judge and discriminate every day. At least, most of us do, unlike the sea.
The Sea – a Tolerance Poem
As I sit by the shore I try to learn the ways of the ocean
how to slap, embrace, twirl, curl and cook up a potion.
I know she knows the rays of the winds and the saints
how sinners like me are never winners, yet she paints
the beach red, heave after peeve, never she tires of tides,
high and low, millions of fish in tow, and I know she never hides
her face or turns a shoulder to shun a boulder or eject a reject
but stirring sinners and winners, yes, that's her pet project.
As I ponder my very petty nature, waves tickle my toes and kiss
my calves and his and hers, indiscriminate, that's what she is
with her love and breath, her rage and the fire I so admire
not like my detection, the woeful selection I choose inspire
upon him and her and them. Trust me, they can never be like us,
how dare they prey on what is ours. I say, throw them off the bus.
As she wets my breath and steals my thoughts of us and them
her undiscerning yearning for me and him and her and them
sweeps in.
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