The sea and the shore - they're often personified as lovers aren't they, constant companions, ever in flux, but always steady, fixed. I like this pairing of poems, giving voice to each.
Song of the Sea to the Shore
Unraveling velvet, wave after wave, driven
by wind, unwinding by storm, by gravity thrown—
however, heaving to reach you, to find you, I've striven
undulant, erosive, blown—
or lying flat as glass for your falling clear
down: I can't swallow you. So why
have I felt I've reached you—as two reflected stars,
surfaced, lie near—as if the sky's
close element is one in me, where starfish
cleave to stones—if you're so far?
I've touched you, I know, but my rush
subsides; our meetings only leave desire's
fleeting trace. Every place I touch you
changes shape. Shore, lie down—
undo. I'll fill your thirsty bones with blue.
I'll flood your every cave and we'll be one.
Song of the Shore to the Sea
It's never enough being one. Why do I hope
to contain you: always undoing and undone;
every place you touch me changes shape.
It's not my way to just lie down;
to sink, effaced and full. If you
swallow me, you're drained, and half
of us is gone. Desire's fulfillment is two,
not one, or our tidal meetings are through.
So hurl your wet force forward, sea,
take me wave by wave. Pearl maker, pull
me deep; our one's a need, a momentary
bliss. What I erect, you spill—
castles, boulders, cliffs. My love's endurance
grain by grain; your adoration's rain.
Touch my bones, my canyon's carved evidence.
Even the moon who moves you is stone.