The Wave

I am a wave on a shoreless sea.
From no beginning
I travel to no goal,
Making my movements stillness.
Constantly I am arriving
And departing,
Being born and dying.
I am always with you
And yet have never been.

I am a feather blowing in the wind,
Reality my conception that I am.
The idea of self a mask
Of many pieces made,
Which at a touch disintegrates
Into specks moved and eddied
By the cosmic wind,
With no star a final backdrop
And no thought a finite wall.

Sometimes I am uncertain
In this infinity.
Yet even in uncertainty
A feather blowing in the wind
From a mosaic mask
Always with you
Never taking form
Moving in stillness
As a wave on a shoreless sea.

Copyright ©1985 Tony Crisp

Copyright © 1999-2010 Tony Crisp | All rights reserved