I HAVE THE ABILITY TO PULL THE TIDES

One day the sea will speak
With the prophesies of an era
Moving gently outward
In a silent communicate
Between you and me.
I wait this time,
Pulling the tides,
Under the same spell
Of the vanishing moon,
Until the right wave gathers
And something new appears.
One day you will mistake me
For yourself and you will see
What I want to see.
This gift of stillness
Will gradually pass, for all sounds
And things have their own silences.
The sea is a room full of people
A curious paradox
Looking backwards
Discovering we have no destination;
We are the continuers,
The inheritors.