Standing at this shore, face to the wind,

                         tumbles a sea and slides out again.
 

Wonder ever present, here where the surf is furred,

                         beauty in deep breaths, and how will I be

                         stirred?
  

Standing at this shore, face to the wind,

                         tumbles a sea and slides out again.
  

Nothing has changed, here at the edge,

                         pondering my future like teetering on some

                         ledge.
  

What is in store for me, how will I know,

                         where to pursue, and when to go?
  

Climbing a high dune, face to the wind,

                         seeking knowledge from this lusty blend.
  

Ah, what can be learned from this too tranquil

                         sight?
  

               I’m what’s really important, me and my rapid

                        flight.

               Soaring goes my spirit, broad as the sky,

                         careless my challenge lest it be a sigh.

               All in this wide world shall come my way,

                         mine to gather and shape as clay.
 

               Huge am I, with the feeling of can,

                         how else, when pitted against this span?

               Conquest will be mine, beginning here,

                         nothing in this wide world shall I fear.

                Shouting my demands at the sea,

                         slapping its answer, the wind hits me.
 

                 Alone I stand, straight-legged to the sea,

                         with troublings of its mystery settling in me.