Tides Of Change:

I see the coming change and feel the strange wind as it flares my nostrils.

I taste the bitter salt and hear the oceans ever present crying sigh.

The sands of time stings my feet as the sweeping gulls swoon about.

Come now the tides of change to whit only my silhouette should remain.

Do you as I, hear the tides call; do you feel the sand and the sea?

Deny this as I and miss the treasure which on the tides of time doth flee.

I need tomorrow, oh how I long to hold it in the palm of my disappearing hand.

Pounding are the flowing waves which steal the night of the yearning moon.

The whiteness on the blackness reveals the sweet change coming soon.

Do you hear the tides of change?

They call out in secret, they call out my name.

7/31/2011 © J. Allen Wilson