Tides and time

Threes again.

My tide is running high:

should I leap, the waves will

part their ranks to catch me.

 

In pink-tinged dusk, the sky,

full of starlings roosting,

calls me back home to sleep.

 

Should I wait for the wind,

will my dreams wait with me,

your smile be still for me?

 

Sun, moon rise, birds flutter,

the eternal wheel turns.

Is there peace in stillness?

 

I cannot hear your voice

above the ocean’s roar,

see your face through the spray.

 

Poised on the brink, I hear

winds of time blow, waves break:

my tide is on the turn.