Seth Jani

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So perfectly aligned and tender,
Those voices we hear daily from the sea
That could as easily belong to a dead man or bird
As to the sea itself.
We follow them down to the shore
Searching inside the ceramic shells
Scattered on the sand,
Looking between rocks,
In the keels of ships,
Even in our own hearts
With their blue horizons.


We dig up and dig down,
Build castles hoping to coax
Some grand inhabitant,
Stand on the fringes of the tide
Believing in the power between worlds.
But still, the sea continues to speak
And we do not know if it is a ghost or god,
Or even if we are listening
To our own precious world
Trying to greet us
With a song.