Suffered through the grim linearity of time,
With curved mouths and endless conversation.
Suffered through all those days that ceaselessly pass by,
Unaware of the agile sea birds that swoop and glide
Across unwelcome lands, against the sea salt breeze.
On land, where the wind fails to blow,
Still and calm, in the burrows and the furrows of mammals,
Between their furs, and their ravaging claws,
Lunging for whispers, and forgotten sentiments;
Seeking out all those that excavate,
And those that gulp the precious water of sacred wells.
You cannot blame them; you cannot forgive them,
For the sea is far too deep,
And the land bitterly restricting.
Either belonging with the sea birds, or the land mammals.
Struggling to find an agreeable compromise.
Trusting in only what is handed, given-
Forgetting, to prudently seek for themselves.
Two boundaries; one way, and the other.
Leaving the past – heading to the future.
Turning, and rolling, writhing and frolicking,
Throughout the sea, and across the lands,
Running with the shrieking caws, and the guttural gaping maws.
Running from what? To where?
It is not known…