Poems · Scribblings

The Never Ending

There was a lady who looked to sea,
Every morning and every evening.
The people who passed looked curiously,
Not at the vastness of the ocean,
But at the strange young woman who had seemed to claim her place among the sand.

There was a lady who looked to the stars,
Every single night.
The people had gone home,
For the vastness of space
Somehow couldn’t captivate them.

“Why,” they would ask her, “Do you continue to look?”
The woman was surprised.
“The stars, the ocean,” she replied, “They never seem to end.”
And she was right – we’ve never seen it all,
And to look is to attempt to fathom its size,
Structure,
Majesty,
Mystery.
To look is to acknowledge what is greater than one’s self.

The woman stood at the seaside for all of her days.
She grew old, tired,
But her gaze did not waver.

Passersby stopped looking as she became one with the environment.
Time could no longer chip away at her,
As she stood at the water’s edge,
Looking at sea and sky,
For all of time.

image

The lady who looked to sea, set in stone.

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