A poem I wrote in 1994:
I am the sea - no, in fact I am the ocean
Which you felt terrific;
I often seem to be in power and motion
But inside cool, pacific.
You are the land - no, in fact are the shore
On which I budged my lips;
I rose to your forehead but then ebbed to your feet,
And you never felt my kiss.
You’re very strong and firm in the core
Peaceful, cool and calm;
But on your surface, you have many pebbles
Always restless, warm.
They stamped on you, threw dirt on you,
Making you so sore,
You gave them all the shells you have
And asked then, “Want some more?'’
I always came to give new shells
To add more glues to you,
I always cared to clean the wounds
On you, as I withdrew.
In day, you got so hot, I touched
To keep you cool and calm;
In night, you shivered in cold, I hugged
To guard you with my warmth.
I absorb anything always slow
To hold it for a long -
Whether it’s heat or whether it’s love
Or whether it’s just a song.
I’m not the water that surrounds you,
But you encircle me,
You’re the shore and my soul and my dream
On all my sides I see.
Where is the end of of me, you know -
The last drop you can feel;
Where is the end of you, I know -
The last pebble I can heel.
My life is not in vain, my friend,
When I sing for thee,
My song is not waste, when it lends
Thy lovely lips a glee!
The last stanza is a distant translation of a stanza by the Malayalam poet Sugathakumari. See this post.