Down at the water the tide churns as the world spins
And the soul of the ocean yearns for the shade of the brim
To cast a calming shadow on its face
At last a welcome break
The fish flutter desperate between the rolling stones
And carry past the hour glass where the algae grows
Not long till all the turbulence proclaims, loudly “you must go”
… this turbulence we know
Till one day comes a soul who sits down, still upon the point
And everything changes
The soul sits still upon the hill and slowly fills the lungs
The soul counts ten, then once again, a temperate patience comes
The soul repeats for hours three, until the breeze replies
“Dear soul, I praise the way you’ve laid to calm the ocean’s cry”
The breeze sits still upon the hill and slowly fills the lungs
The breeze counts ten, then once again, a temperate patience comes
The breeze breathes sun for twenty-one, until the water stills
The ocean calms, the churn is gone, dear soul upon the hill.
