The sea is not just a sea;
it is a sea of metaphors.
So much has she to tell, to show,
everyone everything; each one a new thing,
as if it erodes each particle
of all it's sand, of all it's epithets,
and they all come up, floating and gushing.
War, trade, suspicion, festivities, routines-
she has been through all, so constant,
so veteran, so ancient.
Yet, everyday,she whispers in my ears
like the ever-loving bride.
From afar, she resembles an alloy
of steel and silk,
shining under the eye of light,
forever unfurling her
She bathes, she jumps,
somersaults by her own.
Or just beats, soothingly, her soothing beats:
the sea of metaphors,
the metronome of my thoughts.