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45. Sea waves © Bruce Goodman 8 October 2017 |
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(The poetic form selected for this week is an adaptation of the Vietnamese luc bat.) |
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Sea waves! Kinaesthetic masterpiece! The earth’s trick to shine hefty stones into fine marble and, over time, transform dull rock. Beauty is born not in fierce forceful storms but slow, quiet, gentle to and fro, wave on wave, stop and go, hard grit. Children ever question, perpetual in their din and quest to know. They prod and pest. Their parents never rest at all; but as the breakers fall on stony shores to maul and grind, Mum turns into diamond, and Dad, wave-worn, refined forged iron. |