Water #1

The sea, the sea, the sombre sea;
how it stirs, in my breast, humble thought,
Roaring waves, rising waters, roar and rise;
in my peace, I sit within their midst — I pray:
“Okeanos, Poseidon, Neptune and Gods of yor,
Lords of ocean, washed away by history;
do you still breathe?”

The river, like torrents of snakes, hisses on;
on wind-worn rocks, I perch, and silently brood,
Currents flow, like white ribbons, past my feet;
onward, onward, I urge it forth — I say:
“Triton, Naiads, Acheron of the World Below,
Someplace, somewhere, lost in ruinous memory;
is there still a land where you dance?”

I ponder the water, its liquid nature: fluid,
Perfect adapter, limitless motion — patternless in order;
Rippling in time to some celestial conductor,
Who is He?