wave after wave come rushing in,
in slow-motion I watch the stream
of sunshine’s glittering gold reflected
on their perky tops, erected
over the following hills and dales
streaming silently over the shoals
until they finally reach their goals;
murmuring over the sand before my feet

every time a wave comes in –
each tiny little, harmless being –
I hear it speaking softly to me
like all my life I’ve heard them speak,
but never understood I quite
the language of their silent speech,
so what it is they wish to say
remains a riddle today as yesterday

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