Fleeting Thought*

As I walk upon the beach I listen to the waves. I like to hear them crash against the rocks Time and time again. I think of an army charging a stronghold A legion of surging white knights, Contemptuously charging a wall of granite-faced men, Brown wind-cracked faces Shields locked for battle Death alone will break them. Streaming white horsehair standards Lifted over the crest of a ridge. The sun’s level rays Striking fire On their spear points, And their gleaming blue shields. Instantly rises a full-throated war cry The clash and grind of weapons of steel, The hollow booming of war horns, the rolling thunder Of shield meeting shield. A dark mass checked but an instant, a moment’s indecision, That seems without end. But a moment’s indecision, before the charge smashes on With shattering speed yet again. Yet the defenders stand Like an island of rock Thrust at from all sides, The tides ebb and flow. While the waves of destruction roar in Wave upon wave, Then swiftly glide back like a shadow Or a wild animal timing its spring, Leaving ground open Littered with wounded or dead. Ground already fought over To be recontested again, As though both sides suddenly stopped, together And drew breath to pause. Instantly another legion springs forward With uplifted spear, Against a solid line of warriors that never breaks Or crumbles in fear. Till at last with a long heave Combining together The waves rise up To pass over and engulf them. Boiling white foam bubbles all around While spray flies high in the air. For a few seconds longer I stand by to stare Lost in my thoughts, Not a sound can I hear. The very essence of life is laden Within the salt air That I could reach out and touch if I wanted As my lungs touch the air. I become all that I see As electricity is all, Without which there are only static Lifeless machines. Yet if I tried to describe what I see These words would I hear. But it’s only the waves, Crashing against the rocks. Time and time again. Copyright © Terence George Craddock