Do Not Swim In The Sea

Do Not Swim In The Sea

The sea does not begin where your feet first touch,

It starts far out where the light forgets its name,

Where silence gathers in long, patient folds,

And watches the shore like a waiting thing.

You may stand at the edge and feel in control,

With the tide slipping softly between your toes,

Yet there is a depth that does not announce itself,

Only a pull that quietly grows.

It has taken more than it has ever returned,

Not always in storms or in violent waves,

Sometimes it waits for the calmest of days,

And keeps what it gathers, and never behaves.

The surface may shimmer, gentle and wide,

A mirror that flatters the sky above,

Though beneath it moves with a different intent,

A patience untouched by reason or love.

There are stories carried in salt and foam,

Of voices that drift where no one can hear,

Of shapes that pass without leaving a trace,

Of something that lingers just out of the clear.

You may think it welcomes the brave or the bold,

That strength is enough to return to the sand,

Yet the sea has no measure for courage at all,

It only responds to its own quiet command.

So stand if you wish at the edge of its reach,

And listen to what the stillness may say,

For not every warning is spoken aloud,

And not every danger will show you the way.

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