To the Sea
Speak, speak, speak to me, Mother
of all the children of light. In your power
is a fostering spell of creation. Soon now
my earthly hour
is to be dashed into spray. Speak speak
in your rock-crash, your shore-shifting cry,
to a child of the light and a child of the dark,
even such as I.
Then let it be. There will come a moment
of thunder, I know, when your word, my word
will alight on the wind. In a quickening storm
I shall hear, be heard.