Earth languidly spinning

The Testament says it took a week to make

Then some house-proud God cleaned with his mop, spade and rake

 

Sundragon’s fire shyly to its western bed dimming,

Wearying beachcrowd homewardly thinning

Wave after wave on rock after rock

Like diamond tipped drills the water is winning

I want to see underwater images defined

But wind rustled surface reflects my eyes’ squinting

 

White topped arms of waves swim from the right

Sprayed mists off the tops breezily drift a flowing spume of white

 

I want to immerse, find evolutionary skills

Effortlessly breathing through newly found gills

To swim and to drift in the current below

And explore as a dolphin this seaside seashow

Clouds’ silent drift into the mattress of night

No symmetry in surf’s frenzied water fight

 

Beyond the white lines, the swell of elation,

My gills withered at birth, evolution’s frustration

I’m sitting on my wave drilled rock

Watching nature’s sometimes swirling confrontation,

 

Just able to see, laughing, spouting,

a symphony of dolphins in ragged formation,

and surfing, though yet nor gills have they for breathing

So why can’t I join them permanently swimming?

 

Evening surfers paddling last waves, the dolphins stampede and play,

This ongoing game and endless unstructured melee,

As water erupts in an unending demand

of hollow shapes that challenge and crush the sand

 

I wait to see who lasts the longer

Are the surfers above or dolphins stronger?

Both breathing air but which belongs here

No matter now, I know what and where demands –

To be a dolphin on earth-bound land?

Or a surfer forever paddling in salty water across the sand?

 

I know as surfers strive to shore,

awaiting tomorrow’s ultra-violet lotion,

that through the night they must rest from wave filled motion

That these streamlined dolphins belong in the ocean.

And we firmly footed on gill-less land.