Sea Pictures.

The sharkstooth waves that shiver and leap silently shoreward
To vent their age-old anger on the fissured milky crags above
Admit temporary defeat and slink back down the beach,
Grumbling loudly and complaining among themselves.

They can wait: they sneak back in darkness
At the supposed behest of some distant lunar sphere
(But I know different)
To nip and gnaw at the stoic, helpless chalk..

To wreak an ancient, unfathomable revenge upon the uncountable
creatures
That, unknowing and uncaring, sacrificed their own unimportant bodies
by the million
To create this massive barrier, this proud check
Upon the ocean's hitherto unchallenged dominion.

These waves are infinitely patient, yet relentless.
They lap in gentle playfulness in the blowsy heat of August,
Crash boldly in the sharp chill of October, biding their time,
And punctuate the Winter gales with their furious deep-throated
roar.

The still chill morning light, riven with gulls' cries,
Reveals the stark bleached scarring of the night's injuries -
Fresh, but not bleeding. The jumbled crags that toppled unseen and
unheard
Lie broken, awaiting their inevitable fate in stoical silence.

For the waves will return; heralded by a salt-laden breeze, a
splash,
Then come the fizzing rivulets that drag their prize,
The jagged debris, back to the depths like some lurking
leviathan,
Sated for the present, chewing over its lifeless prey.

Only when they have crushed and pounded those fragments,
Shaped and polished them in their own slippery image,
Will the waves carelessly toss them back into the dull dry domain of
humans
For wide-eyed children to gather and wonder at.