on burnished pewter
rolling in toward a high noon tide,
reveals a curious mound,
soft as velvet
with new moon eyes.
Stretching, yawning, sleepy
in the sun,
an adolescent seal
has wandered far from Mom
and used up all resources.
He's beached by exhaustion,
relaxed on the sand
waiting for the tide to rise
and welcome him in--
rather than pushing on
in haste and fear,
he calmly waits.
His way will be clear and easy
when the full tide greets
his trusting fin feet.
I could learn from this child
of water and earth
how to trust the natural rhythms
of death and birth,
of tidal ebb and flow.
Offer open space
to that ambitious adolescent inside
who may need rest
to grow closer to common sense.
Yes.
Give him space,
draw no fence around him…
if we humans could understand
that our heart can touch
as surely as our hand,
we may learn grace,
a balanced dance…
evolutions right of passage
giving wildness half a chance.
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