Seascape Poem by Tom Billsborough

My spirit self wakes to the sound of the sea
As each wave breaks out from its long sleep
In cathartic music.
Drum beats echo my embryonic state and the foam scatters
Like disconnected thoughts.
Rocks crouch like satyrs in dark corners,
Issuing collusive whispers.
Persistent Vespers on the rolling tide.
I hear you now, creator of all things, the one true God,
Calling me from your vast womb,
To sing my anthems to your female glory
Within this cathedral of true shape
Fitting as the crab's carapace.