The Waves

The waves restore my faith that nothing ends,
Breath pushing in and out — whether it's me,
Or you, or love, or the immortal sea.
The polar icecaps melt, fine-weather friends
Excuse themselves, but still the sea extends
Forever, goes on, incrementally
Producing tides with cool geometry,
Waves reaping massive, certain dividends.

Sadly, I had so little faith before
That when I prayed, I could not loose my tongue,
And gravely mumbled aimless, nameless bung.
Restore my other certainties, restore
My doubts, the way the waves restore the shore.
We've waited right here since the sea was young.