One wave isn't a tide, neither is a moment when it's still,
oceans will remain oceans, whether winds are calm or shrill.
Boulders standing firmly, their foundations never moving,
the songs of timeless seas, forever keep on soothing.
Washing away the sorrow, of tearing cliff faces,
only centuries or more, showing time's subtle traces.
It feels like nothing happens, nothing but the noise,
powerless frustrations, a breaking, cracking voice.
Over time it tells a story, endlessly it flows,
consistency works slowly, the only way it knows.