Fingerprints stain the glass,
Secret smudges illuminated in the flash,
The lightning sizzling close,
And I look through the smeared pane,
Eyes lingering on the crash of the waves over stone,
A natural, furious rhythm,
Rushing and pulling, spraying memories through the lichen,
Foaming over the sand, climbing the cliff…

Oh, the Sea…the Sea…how you call out to me,
How you cling to my skin in the darkest hours,
And reach for me in my dreams…

I watch you from this ancient, damp tower,
Restored yet desecrated,
The scent of spirit drifting from each and every stone,
I watch you…my breath frosting the pane,
My fingers splayed, dancing with the those prints past,
Winding my whorls and loops into the history of this place,
My tears spilling silently,
Rushing toward you…longing to join your rhythm…

And I will join you,
Ah, yes, I will sink into you, float into you,
Glide with you, crash with you, waves over stone…