The Irishman and the Sea

He stood on the rocks, and stared down below
At her writhing, tumultuous watery throes.

His thoughts were all quarreling about his disgrace

While the sea spat and sighed in his hardened face.

He lowered himself to perch on a stone
That had been weathered and beaten for years unknown.
He thought out loud, "How can it be,"
"That the woman I love will never love me?"
As soon as he said it, the tides started to rise.

Her billowing surf shown in his lost eyes.
"I've loved her through all of my musings and pain.
By pulling her in, I've forced her away."

The water was high, the storm drawing near.
Inside rolling fog, the world disappeared.
He howled in agony, his soul torn asunder.
The sky cracked apart with a peal of thunder.
Her waves and his fists both beat on the shore.
For his heart and her slumber both were now torn.
White caps erupted as she suddenly awoke
And at last, after silence, the sea finally spoke.
Who are you, she pondered in her salty breath.
That looks to his life as if he lives it in death?

"It is I," moaned the Irishman, he rose to his feet.
"Without the woman I love, why does my heart still beat?"
She robbed all my senses, so why do I feel?
If I cannot live with her, then why bother to heal?"

The sea rolled about in her turbulent fashion

With love and anger and misguided passion.
She rose from her bed of rocky, black shoals

And with one fell swoop, she swallowed him whole.
He kicked and he flailed but was still pulled down
As the sea held him tight, he knew he would drown.
Surrender, my darling, for you will not go free.

Stay with me now, succumb to me.
He clamored for air, but to no avail.
Her grip was too strong, his attempts were too frail.

Look at yourself, all the hurt you've sustained
You're broken and battered and lost in your pain.

With a twinge of regret in the face of his death,

He released his final and miserable breath.

Now you are mine, she whispered to he.
I can give you something if you listen to me.

I cannot give you kindness, for it will hide it on a shelf.

I cannot give you strength, you must earn it yourself.

I cannot give you joy, for it will be hollow.
I cannot give back yesterday, or find your tomorrow.

I cannot give you courage, nor honor, nor grace.
What you've openly surrendered, I cannot replace.
But I can give you something for your journey above,

I can give you my wisdom, some hope, and my love.

Never ask for something you can't find on your own.

Your path in this life is yours alone.

Be what you are, but don't stay where you're at.
Most things are ephemeral, you cannot change that.
You're wasting yourself, by ignoring your thirst,

No one will love you, unless you love you first.

With a wild furor, the sea violently churned.
She thrashed in her turmoil like a woman spurned.

Waves broke with wrath over the jagged rocks

And she ravaged the shore in ill aftershocks.

When the Irishman opened his green-hued eyes,
He saw a pinkish dawn with cloudless skies.
The world was dusted with early morning chill,
The sun tipped the horizon and the sea was still.

He was flat on his back on the old, weathered stone.

And for the first time in his life, he did not feel alone.