The Coast

Walk out along soaked sand and dead sea weed,
Out to the vast and endless sea,
And wonder while you walk in shallow puddles,
Does anybody ever stay to watch them roar?

As others walk their dogs along the coast,
One old man walks his on the seabed,
Fearless of the tide’s unpredictability,
Dispelling irrational fears.

A woman collects shells inside the coast wall,
Each shell reminding her of a friend,
Everyday she finds four new shells,
To leave on four friends’ graves.

Shadows of ravens soar in the sunlight,
Ominous in their black pack,
One white gull follows slowly behind,
Encouraging in its caw.

As you smile at seeing such relieving sights,
A sunbeam flashes for a split second across the sky,
In its shape you recognise your father,
And you know everything will be ok.

And leaving your stepped seat four rows down,
Will make you feel ten feet tall when the time is right.