Face the waves

[From: “The Writings of C. James Gwyllyn”]
 
Face the waves which touch our country;
breathe the starlight, admixed with brine;
swim amidst bright dreams of morning
tossed and tumbled through the night;
a strong desire for wind is upon us,
driven fierce by unseen tempests,
pushing the waters onto pale shores
through wild and wavering shadows;
these fair bone-cages are being washed,
serene in the warm and ebbing tide;
the fragile light is burning down
into the half-illumined depths;
such twilight and silhouetted smiles,
such longings between the water-pages,
longings not understood by youth:
the endless minstrelsy of frothy waves,
eyes bright beneath star-spray blossoms,
and the dying of each wave in its turn.