THE TIDE (2/8/73)

See them rolling with the tide,
Powerless to stem their ever increasing slide.
Crashing, turning, smashing against the stones.
What a pity that man is made of bones.

His power lost against the massive push
Of others pushing toward the rocks,
He falls against the stones,
Crushed by the massive human tide.
The Tide retreats and he lays broken,
Gasping on the sand.

The tide returns and crushes him again.
Retreats, returns, retreats, returns
Til nothing now is left.
He has become one with the tide.
His oneness is no more.
He now joins that massive force
Pushing others to the shores.

But, what of those still wrestling with the sea?
What hope is there for them?
And what is left for me?
To meet the sea head on,
The power overwhelms,
And we die amidst the waves alone.

But there are islands in the sea
Where a man can go ashore.
Coves and inlets await him there
Peaceful--resting--still.

He need not meet the sea head-on,
But, slip into one of these.
With strength regained and protected from the sea,
One is one and two are three,
A new form of human unity.

The peaceful calm
The quiet of night,
Guided by a ray of light,
To each his own impossibility,
For me to be me
And you to be you.
I love your possibility!

The coves in which we hide
Are simply beds in which we lay,
Taking rest, regaining strength
To conquer and overtake the tide.
But, together in that bed must we lay.
For loneliness produced that massive tide.
The coves of your body,
And the inlets of your mind;
In these are found the refuge that we seek.

Let me rest beside your body
And take refuge in your mind,
Til I am you and you are I.
But, we both know who is who.
Then, with others we have joined,
Let us walk together and gently calm the sea.