I am a wave that beats against a rock:

I shift my shape but stone remains unchanged;

I turn to foam and run from it, ashamed


I am a gust of wind that runs into a face,

A withered face that’s seen the worst of storms,

And as I touch its scars, I lose my strength, ashamed


I am the wish that I cannot fulfil

I am the chance I never took with me,

Ashamed to be and, thus, bound not to be

Tropical Morning

This day is as gray as my eyes

With storm clouds as thick as my hair

I kneel by the edge of the pier

And wait for the rain to begin


Washing me out of this morning


A raindrop precedes a downpour

A movement – a numbness, a death

I’m certain there aren’t many steps

Left for my bare feet to climb

Till life starts pouring

Out my heart, ever hopeful and burning


Wild vertical sea tumbles down

And colours air ashen and cold;

I’m sorry I’ve never been told

One could drown on dry land

If it’s pouring like today –

In a rain on a tropical morning