The slosh and the splosh,
The sway and the spray
The ups and the down
Like a king and his crown
Heads swell
Then shrink
As the knife edge
Always on the brink
The breathing moment
Living in lime
The wash and the slosh
Of a swimmingly good time
And jagged rocks and thought's precipice
The acclimatizing to danger
The body senses take over hands grip then plunge
Movement in the swell
Suspension in the tension of Estuary tide
Ticking geological, theological clocks
How long does it take God to carve these rocks?
Or nature is a floating voter and can be brought to temper
In and out the channel waters, in whichever mood bent her
