THE
WAVES
There come Neptune's children
From afar, weary, resolute,
Deserting their source,
The soft horizon.
White-crested waves,
Emissaries of seafarers,
Gentler than doves at w ill,
At will destroyers.
Here come the waves,
A watery stampede,
Thunderous upheavals,
Exaltation.
In their race to touch sand,
Euphoria,
On the senseless sand,
Thunderous clapping,
Sweeping sheets
Now they beat the retreat,
A generation of silvery
Bubbles behind them;
All breaking into a sigh.
Have they just arrived
And still yearn for more?
Just like me.
Hassum Ceesay (Sr)
(Ndaanan, Vol. 5, Issue 1&2, March/September, 1976, p. 27)