The Rip Post


I sat upon a shoreline rock;
The water came to me.
Self-sure, it came to laugh me down,
To raise my lowered eye;
Its silvered voice said this is this, and this is this is this
And was and was and always was and is and is and is.

Beyond the shore green hillocks rose
And curved their foaming backs --
And caught within their crystal caves
Sparks from a dying sun:
The last day's pink, the first day's blue, mellenia of red,
Momentary yellow flame; funerary lead,
Lapis and vermillion, celestially wed.

Near my rock the cresting sea
Came rumbling to the shore;
In my heart the cresting sea
Reprised this muffled roar;
Raucous waves of bursting life unrestrained and wild
Sparkled through with baby cries and lovers' sudden smiles
All salt, all air, all strength, all care, all laughing all the while.

Then nighttime came, and shadows bore
Sounds never heard before --
A blackened sea rose creaking up, all color cast aside
All civil pretense shuffled off, playfulness belied,
An earnest flood to swallow all
Upon the eventide.

---Kirk Rense

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2002 Rip Rense. All rights reserved.