Fragile wonder: A poem 

The wind sweeps the agile shoreline streets 

The tide reverberates, then hastily retreats 

A seagull dives, then quickly self-assuredly climbs 

A broken shell’s beauty is on my shapeless mind 

A motionless boat’s sail pricks the placid horizon 

All speed is relative to distance and to the sun 

I watch the clouds hang low in the breezy calm 

The chorus of sea and sand is the turntable at my arm 

The cityscape that looms afar, I fit in the width of my palm 

It doesn’t fuel my anxiety, as pure breath is my balm 

My desires are a clam, silent, unintrusive and not wistful 

I feel like a sage, with the sands dripping from my fistfuls 

I cannot still these moments, leisure is time’s victim 

The voice of routine is life’s unfortunate pressing dictum 

I can ruin my vision with worry’s elephants on the beach 

But to these fragile meadows of wonder, I try resolutely to reach