What of the sea,
that lends its tacit form,
as druids of the night
that heaves a heavy shore?

Might I clamor it's doldrum manner
sink to its floor and stir
lively the depths, the mines
of it's will,

bring to shallows an unbridled storm,
the waking eye,
a trembling fist
and rage to the very heart
-- the tempest!

No, when far more a soul thrives
in the calm breaths
of its peaceful sigh.