Sea Saw

Sea Saw

Acknowledging the flow and current
pulling us to the edgeless sea.

Turning down a tributary,
dead ends become our see-saw.

Searching still, we find some questions,
speaking out about the edge.



Does the past-present meeting place
show the farce of symmetry?

Does this spring commence a whirlpool,
the torrent leading to the river?

Does the river end within the sea
where the ocean seems so never-ending?



I balance on the bitter beach,
while drinking in the consciousness—

the more I chase this steadiness
the lesser I will see the sea.

And with my hands held to my side
I plunge back into the waking flow.