Shore bird's reverie
Resigned to the march of nature,
Heedless to the spray
From the steaming wave,
A shore bird roosts brood
On the shore
Rolled by the sand shifting
As the tide shifts:
Some day this planet too,
The earth crust shifting
As universe turns side,
Like wealth and fame
To nothingness sinks.
Pines he not after his wings
Stained by tides
Or his passing original form,
So sunk is he in his only thirst
To drink creation whole,
Casting self out, to become
One with life.
poem by Yoonoos Peerbocus
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Related quotes
Cats Are
cats are
they come go
accept reject
in independent thought
in secret feline thought
loyal to moments in time
enjoying totally in luxury
exultation of comfort purring
day vision night vision shifts
shifting in time
shifting in mind
shifting in mood
light changes seen through
optical shifts in feline slit eyes
adjusting light sound perception
living moments lapping contentment
changes changes of timeless sleep
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Drifters
I dont believe in miracles if its all the same by you
Your wishes would come true if I had my say
Whether its right or wrong the words of every song
Remind us of a love we knew where love should not go wrong
In yesterday
Hang on ye drifters now you got so much to go and gamble on
Watch out for the shifting sand where ever you may ramble
Even now as I look back and see all thats come to pass
I cant remember how it was I got here
Look around this place theres a smile on every face
Were somewhere in the afterglow out there among the stars
Out there among the bars
Hang on ye drifters now you got places to go and people to meet
Watch out for the shifting tide where ever you may travel.
I know I should not complain because lifes been good to me
It feels real good to be stranded on my own
Be that as it may be we are what we are
Ill find you in the afterglow out there among the stars
Of yesteryear
Hang on ye drifters now you got so much to go and gamble on
Watch out for the shifting sand where ever you may ramble
All you drifters now you got places to go and people to meet
Watch out for the shifting tide where ever you may travel.
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Silence Oceans
Oceans of life,
Oceans in one's life
are wonderful,
Heart is one ocean
Brain is another ocean,
mind is the third,
Trifles are fourth,
Intelligence and wit make fifth,
wisdom and knowledge sixth,
God and Love are seventh!
Soul is the land,
Raised above these oceans
And look as their shore,
Every instant a wave of thought hits the shore!
High tides of happiness,
low tides of sorrow,
High tides of success,
Low tides of failure hit the shore!
Ego is that wind blowing,
Desires and pride are changing gravity
cause wave and tide!
Sometimes disappointment,
Or hurt ego,
can create storm and tsunami!
Silence in solitude,
become grand solitude,
Takes one to that altitude,
everything is cool in love and gratitude,
Peace incarnate in multitude,
In that great solitude,
When wind stops,
and become still,
When there is no movement Of Sun and Moon,
When everything comes to still,
No waves, no tides,
ocean meets shore, all in love,
No raising or falling tides,
No roar of chasing waves,
That is that grand silence,
Silence of All oceans,
When no bird fly or sing,
When no events,
they are
Time's own parents,
And time give birth to
Three tenses,
Past and future
compress the present,
Now lose pressure,
Present expands to eternal!
All merge in present
One is present in present tense only,
Both presence and absence,
Merge in that grand existence,
That is the grand silence,
That is the solitude,
Where no one to disturb,
Nothing can disturb,
Soul is immersed in the universal soul,
Mind goes out of universe and sees the grand truth,
Truth is that truth,
no false can never reach,
No false can never touch,
Universe infinite is not even atomic,
Because mind itself has grown,
fantastic and gigantic,
No atlantic, no antarctic,
Only ocean remains,
peaceful pacific
No reason to love,
No reason to hate,
No one can touch,
No arms can harm,
Listen to that drummer,
Beats drum continuously,
AUM AUM AUM,
Now in that silence of absolute solitude,
No drum, no AUM,
No drummer,
No judge's hammer,
No eternal vibration,
As one become one's own master!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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As The Day Was Passing
The waves lapped gently to the shore
as a flotilla of sailboats rested
in corridors on the water
with their white sails stained crimson
by the setting sun
an evocative silence cloaked each and every one
as they nudged against their mooring
to each gentle wave that passed by.
A tourniquet of lovers
stood watching by the shore
as the day was passing
to be with us no more.
13 October 2009
poem by David Harris
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Song - Between The Isles of Marie
There’s pride in the flowing, down over the shore, into the bordering sea.
There’s struggle in wait in the tangle that sways, between the waves and the stream
in that mirror of dreams ‘tween the Isles of Marie, reaching in vain for the moon.
And there by the brink of the rise and fall, we knew what we had was good
For moments so brief, in this chance passing through, we savoured the frost and the rain.
We wrestled to live in that basin of life so free of shadow and stain
on the restless edge of that salty lagoon, far from the tides of the street;
free of the deals that swirl in a world that sways between rules and deceit
Though icy winds blew through the white sweeping light fading into the dawn
a blanket of hush sheltered the shore ‘til the depths of darkness were gone.
Or bidden by tides that fell by the sun, we’d wade in sweltering heat,
into the shallows hoping to share, in the grace and wealth of the sea.
And we were just kids then, lacking in choices, though richly laden with life.
But witched by that light cutting the night, we couldn’t foresee just how blind
are the eyes of the child to the darkness in life, unveiled as the years unrolled
when we left behind that dance with the tide, down on the beckoning shore.
Ocean Man
Ocean man, take me by the hand, lead me to the land that you understand
Ocean man, the voyage to the corner of the globe is a real trip
Ocean man, the crust of a tan man embibed by the sand
Soaking up the thirst of the land
Ocean man, can you see through the wonder of amazement at the oberman
Ocean man, the crust is elusive when it casts forth to the childlike man
Ocean man, the sequence of a life form braised in the sand,
Soaking up the thirst of the land
Ocean man, ocean man
Ocean man
[repeat verses]
Ocean man
song performed by by Ween
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For music
ALONG the shore, along the shore
I see the wavelets meeting:
But thee I see--ah, never more,
For all my wild heart's beating.
The little wavelets come and go,
The tide of life ebbs to and fro,
Advancing and retreating:
But from the shore, the steadfast shore,
The sea is parted never:
And mine I hold thee evermore,
Forever and forever.
Along the shore, along the shore
I hear the waves resounding,
But thou wilt cross them nevermore
For all my wild heart's bounding:
The moon comes out above the tide
And quiets all the billows wide
Her pathway bright surrounding:
Thus on the shore, the dreary shore,
I walk with weak endeavor:
I have thy love's light evermore,
Forever and forever.
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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Sea-Shore
Every wave from the sea,
Running towards the shore,
As if to stay with it forever.
Returns all rejected,
Only more salty and miserable,
Happy to be so, though.
The sea tries yet again,
In the form of another wave,
A never ending hope of attraction,
And a continuous failure.
The shore not at fault either,
Luring the sea towards itself,
Without knowing the depth,
Or the sparkle of the water.
Couldn’t move an inch,
To walk with the sea forever,
A decision not made by choice.
Does not hold the sea to itself,
Neither does it let go,
Probably that’s what He wanted.
The sea running towards the shore,
Knowing it would be the end,
And sighs in the form of a breeze,
At the thought of the final touch,
Every dropp awaiting the end.
Trying and denying carries on,
Till the sea dries out,
The shore stays where it was,
Beside the grave of its only lover,
As lonely as it could be.
poem by Dhruv Dikshit
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Vanitas Vanitatis, Etc.
In all we do, and hear, and see,
Is restless Toil and Vanity;
While yet the rolling earth abides,
Men come and go like Ocean tides;
And ere one generation dies,
Another in its place shall rise.
That sinking soon into the grave,
Others succeed, like wave on wave;
And as they rise, they pass away.
The sun arises every day,
And hastening onward to the west
He nightly sinks but not to rest;
Returning to the eastern skies,
Again to light us he must rise.
And still the restless wind comes forth
Now blowing keenly from the north,
Now from the South, the East, the West;
For ever changing, ne'er at rest.
The fountains, gushing from the hills,
Supply the ever-running rills;
The thirsty rivers drink their store,
And bear it rolling to the shore,
But still the ocean craves for more.
'Tis endless labour everywhere,
Sound cannot satisfy the ear,
Sight cannot fill the craving eye,
Nor riches happiness supply,
Pleasure but doubles future pain;
And joy brings sorrow in her train.
Laughter is mad, and reckless mirth,
What does she in this weary earth?
Should wealth or fame our life employ,
Death comes our labour to destroy,
To snatch th' untasted cup away,
For which we toiled so many a day.
What then remains for wretched man?
To use life's comforts while he can:
Enjoy the blessings God bestows,
Assist his friends, forgive his foes,
Trust God, and keep His statutes still
Upright and firm, through good and ill --
Thankful for all that God has given,
Fixing his firmest hopes on heaven;
Knowing that earthly joys decay,
But hoping through the darkest day.
poem by Anne Brontë
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Our nature
Nature dances to no ones rhythm except her own
She sits proud and arrogant on her thrown
She is inconstant, up one day and down the next bout
Like an ocean tide going in and out
Nature is born of the universe
Or is it that she is one with the universe
Nature is inconquerable
Nature is invincible
Nature is beautiful
With an abundance of mysteries, she is bountiful
Nature is original law
When there was no man, she was there before
Nature bore us
Nature is us
poem by Mthoko Mpofana
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In Memory of David Archer (LIV)
The words are always as
strange and dead as those
fragments and oddments that
the wave casts up on the shore:
I stand in the sea mist
gazing down at the white
words and old bits of wood
and wonder what they were for.
I think that they were not
ever intended to do
what, when we seek to speak,
we believe that they may:
they cannot bear us up
the frothy words and like
wings at the lame foot
lift us out of the clay.
For all the reflections
I call up out of the sea
(they seem to speak as the shell
seems to speak for the sea)
are no more truly here
than the wind weaving sand
into shapes of things
we think that we know and see.
When in the evening sky
a single star appears
over my head, and the moon
out of the cloud lifts its face,
when the white gull turns
or the high plover hovers
to tell me with a cry
I trespass in this place:
What I see, then, with
that cloud my witness is
not shapes of the mind or wind
like the slow rainbowings
of the dolphin's skin as it dies
but, as though from the cloud
I saw my bone walk the shore,
the theology of all things.
The white stones and the old
odd bits of sea blanched wood,
Overstrand and the swinging
lighthouse glimpsed in the mists,
they flash in the prisms and I
believe for a moment I see
the dazzling atoms dancing
in every thing that exists.
The children dance on the shore.
The waves dies on the sand.
The spray blows to and fro,
the children dance and die.
What waves are these that dance
with the children on the sand?
I hear them calling, but cannot
hear what it is that they cry.
I neither understand
nor know why I am moved
beyond these words by the
odd bits of bleached wood
cast up on Overstrand
or by the black and twisted
October evening tree
dying beside the road.
or by the child of midnight
so deep asleep but still
lost in the corridors
of the mansions of dust,
by any or by all
ceremonial evidence
attesting that we love
simply because we must.
I walk upon Overstrand shore
and the crab at my foot
inscribes praise in the sand.
The wave bursts with glory
because it rises up like
angels out of the sea,
and the dead starfish burns
on Overstrand promontory.
Why do I hear them cry
out from the far side of life,
those forms and impulses
unborn beyond the sky?
Why should they hope and seek
above all else to be?
Tonight on Overstrand
I know for one moment why.
poem by George Barker
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Daze Of The Moiré Waves
Wave after wave, gust after gust
The phantoms that lurks and haunts
In this sea of treacherous hands
Waving for a slow dance, for riddance
Had their clandestine machinations
That endlessly rubbed sand into sand
Until they are finer than their whistling
And whiter than their demented dreams,
And surged tides after hungry tides
Devouring the clambering suppurations
That rivaled the pitch fathoms to rise
Only to dissipate in the endless toppling
And become tiny bubbles of forgetting
The phosphorescent shore and its descant
That fringes the lonely sea and her haze
Calls gust after gust, wave after wave
And with this drought I held in my heart
Abandoned by the arsenal of flames
The daze of the perfidious sea calls upon
My misbegotten misery, and in her ruse
That will devour my restricted bawl,
My anguished wails, and my groveling hopes
I stared endlessly resisting submission
But in this breadth of irrational obduracy
I have already drowned and the chance
Remained lurking upon the stark shore
Without leaving footprints to show
That the daze of the moiré waves
Had succumbed my stipulations.
poem by Norman Santos
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Footprint
Love
that like footprint on the sand
uncertainly answered
that back
like a shield for my feeling
always walking one step alone
everytime I close
like the sand on the shore
that waved back to the shore
my feeling for you
like shore side should be calm
without voice
only written disappeared
from hitsuji no namida
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Song
Not the soft sighs of vernal gales,
The fragrance of the flowery vales,
The murmurs of the crystal rill,
The vocal grove, the verdant hill;
Not all their charms, though all unite,
Can touch my bosom with delight.
Not all the gems on India's shore,
Not all Peru's unbounded store,
Not all the power, nor all the fame,
That heroes, kings, or poets claim;
Nor knowledge which the learn'd approve,
To form one wish my soul can move.
Yet Nature's charms allure my eyes,
And knowledge, wealth, and fame I prize;
Fame, wealth, and knowledge I obtain,
Nor seek I Nature's charms in vain;
In lovely Stella all combine,
And, lovely Stella! thou art mine.
poem by Samuel Johnson
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Sitting On The Shore
THE tide has ebbed away:
No more wild dashings 'gainst the adamant rocks,
Nor swayings amidst sea-weed false that mocks
The hues of gardens gay:
No laugh of little wavelets at their play:
No lucid pools reflecting heaven's clear brow--
Both storm and calm alike are ended now.
The rocks sit gray and lone:
The shifting sand is spread so smooth and dry,
That not a tide might ever have swept by
Stirring it with rude moan:
Only some weedy fragments idly thrown
To rot beneath the sky, tell what has been:
But Desolation's self has grown serene.
Afar the mountains rise,
And the broad estuary widens out,
All sunshine; wheeling round and round about
Seaward, a white bird flies.
A bird? Nay, seems it rather in these eyes
A spirit, o'er Eternity's dim sea
Calling--'Come thou where all we glad souls be.
O life, O silent shore,
Where we sit patient; O great sea beyond
To which we turn with solemn hope and fond,
But sorrowful no more:
A little while, and then we too shall soar
Like white-winged sea-birds into the Infinite Deep:
Till then, Thou, Father--wilt our spirits keep.
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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Vanitas Vanitatum, Omnia Vanitas
In all we do, and hear, and see,
Is restless Toil and Vanity.
While yet the rolling earth abides,
Men come and go like Ocean tides;
And ere one generation dies,
Another in its place shall rise;
That, sinking soon into the grave,
Others succeed, like wave on wave;
And as they rise, they pass away.
The sun arises every day,
And, hastening onward to the West,
He nightly sinks, but not to rest:
Returning to the eastern skies,
Again to light us, he must rise.
And still the restless wind comes forth,
Now blowing keenly from the North;
Now from the South, the East, the West,
For ever changing, ne'er at rest.
The fountains, gushing from the hills,
Supply the ever-running rills;
The thirsty rivers drink their store,
And bear it rolling to the shore,
But still the ocean craves for more.
'Tis endless labour everywhere!
Sound cannot satisfy the ear,
Light cannot fill the craving eye,
Nor riches half our wants supply;
Pleasure but doubles future pain,
And joy brings sorrow in her train;
Laughter is mad, and reckless mirth
What does she in this weary earth?
Should Wealth, or Fame, our Life employ,
Death comes, our labour to destroy;
To snatch the untasted cup away,
For which we toiled so many a day.
What, then, remains for wretched man?
To use life's comforts while he can,
Enjoy the blessings Heaven bestows,
Assist his friends, forgive his foes;
Trust God, and keep his statutes still,
Upright and firm, through good and ill;
Thankful for all that God has given,
Fixing his firmest hopes on heaven;
Knowing that earthly joys decay,
But hoping through the darkest day.
poem by Anne Brontë from Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell (1846)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Salty Sea
Oh, how I love the salty sea,
And if it were up to me,
I would stay there night and day,
While felling it's soft, sweet spray.
I would sit on the salty sea shore,
Watching the seagulls dip and soar.
I would sit on the sand, soft and white,
And stay 'till the sun was out of sight.
When the sea tide is low,
I will stay while it tickles my toes.
When the sea tide is high,
I will not bid it good-bye.
Oh, how I love the salty sea,
I wish it belonged just to me.
If I could hold my breathe forever,
I would never move, never!
So, on the sand I would lay,
And wait for the tide to take me away...
Oh, how I love the sea!
poem by Layla Stone
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The Departing of Gluskâp
It is so long ago; and men well-nigh
Forget what gladness was, and how the earth
Gave corn in plenty, and the rivers fish,
And the woods meat, before he went away.
His going was on this wise.
All the works
And words and ways of men and beasts became
Evil, and all their thoughts continually
Were but of evil. Then he made a feast.
Upon the shore that is beside the sea
That takes the setting sun, he ordered it,
And called the beasts thereto. Only the men
He called not, seeing them evil utterly.
He fed the panther's crafty brood, and filled
The lean wolf's hunger; from the hollow tree
His honey stayed the bear's terrific jaws;
And the brown rabbit couched at peace, within
The circling shadow of the eagle's wings.
And when the feast was done he told them all
That now, because their ways were evil grown,
On that same day he must depart from them,
And they should look upon his face no more.
Then all the beasts were very sorrowful.
It was near sunset, and the wind was still,
And down the yellow shore a thin wave washed
Slowly; and Gluskâp launched his birch canoe,
And spread his yellow sail, and moved from shore,
Though no wind followed, streaming in the sail,
Or roughening the clear waters after him.
And all the beasts stood by the shore, and watched.
Then to the west appeared a long red trail
Over the wave; and Gluskâp sailed and sang
Till the canoe grew little, like a bird,
And black, and vanished in the shining trail.
And when the beasts could see his form no more,
They still could hear him, singing as he sailed,
And still they listened, hanging down their heads
In long row, where the thin wave washed and fled.
But when the sound of singing died, and when
They lifted up their voices in their grief,
Lo! on the mouth of every beast a strange
New tongue! Then rose they all and fled apart,
Nor met again in council from that day.
poem by Sir Charles George Douglas Roberts
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Immortal
Every moment I am born
From the warm womb
Of marvelous curiosity,
By endless regeneration
As distant from death
As this world is forever new!
With each breath
I am born unto new wonders,
To discover love, trust, friendship,
The eternal renewal,
The perpetual shifting from shore to shore,
Immortal even when this body is no more!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
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Tides of Life
As the tides of life ebb and flow, you dear friend, may never know,
What the tides will bring your way, as they change from day to day.
This life and all its uncertainty, can change the path of you and me,
And as we journey upon life’s tide, we need an anchor by our side.
You need an anchor in your heart, for your soul that will not depart,
An anchor for every single tide, that keeps you secure deep inside.
Life’s tides can become high or low, no matter where in life you go,
This life can even bring a drought, filling a heart with fears or doubt.
Even when life brings a high tide, one needs to have an inner guide,
One guide to lead you from above, should the tide become a flood.
Friend, during any flood in your life, you can rely upon Jesus Christ,
Who calmed the wind and the sea, can calm a heart for you and me.
He can save you from all harms, taking you in His everlasting arms,
As God places both you and me, upon Christ, The Rock of Eternity.
The Rock that anyone can know, wherever the tides of life may flow,
As it is The Lord’s amazing Grace, that reaches down to every place.
God will save you from life’s flood, through the power of the blood,
Shed for all nations by Jesus Christ, to purchase for all Eternal Life.
And it is that tide from Calvary, which reaches men like you and me,
So that we can live forevermore, upon Christ’s golden Eternal shore.
(Copyright ©07/2007)