the shores of freedom’s water

Let breath become the ocean

each inhalation I do see

are washing over me,

and with each exhalation

the ocean starts to breathe

I open my eyes gently

to gaze upon the sea.

Calm is the passing storm

Calm is the passing storm

from shelter’s mouth I view

Winds that whip the wrestling sea

from shelter’s mouth anew

Are waves which roar like lion’s breath

from shelter’s mouth I coo

How calm it seems the passing storm

from shelter’s mouth I view—a dinghy

in the water struggling, it’s a sailor

so uncouth—a sailor I once knew.