Written Upon Seeing the Mediterranean
The blue flat witness to history
pounds patiently on the sand.
A million boats and a billion souls
have traversed its windy highways,
have frolicked on its shores,
and perished on its rocks.
And still it pounds.
It holds the wealth of empires
in its dark watery bosom,
a record of the effort
and desires of humanity.
It has a thousand names
yet answers to none of them.
Long will it continue to pound and wait
after our souls have left the earth,
giving life and health to humans
while it scoffs at their works.
DH ([email protected])
pounds patiently on the sand.
A million boats and a billion souls
have traversed its windy highways,
have frolicked on its shores,
and perished on its rocks.
And still it pounds.
It holds the wealth of empires
in its dark watery bosom,
a record of the effort
and desires of humanity.
It has a thousand names
yet answers to none of them.
Long will it continue to pound and wait
after our souls have left the earth,
giving life and health to humans
while it scoffs at their works.
DH ([email protected])