This is a poem about death, written in around a simple story I heard recently. I am also reminded of this.

“The ocean goes on for ever”

Said the ripple

Just learning how to be a wave

Learning how to catch the reach of the wind

How to rise like an athlete at the drop of a flag

And to skim over the skin of the sea

Fringed by the speed of movement

~

But the ringing horizon was a

Crystalled panning lens

That one day found the edge

Of a jagged shadow

Against which wave after wave

After wave after wave

Was broken

~

“What is this terrible thing” cried the ripple

“That would turn us white then end us?”

~

So an older wave shouldered close

And offered some compassion;

“Have no fear now little one

Let’s roar and make commotion

For what you are is more than wave

You are made from mighty ocean.”