I hear the thunder of the surf.
by ivor .e hogg
In the distance sea birds cry.
The tremors vibrate through the earth,
I walk on beneath the sky.
As yet I cannot see the sea.
It is waiting patiently.
My feet tread on the springy turf
but there is no urgency.
What is a day of freedom worth?
If you must watch constantly
the passing hours giving birth.
Time does not exist for me.
I reach the edge and have to stop,
lacking wings I cannot fly.
But I can see from this cliff top.
The ocean merges with the sea
That’s where dreams can develop,
a surreal fantasy.