Why the sea is Salty

A falcon from her eyrie flies,
and above the sea she cries.
Tears fall for the young
that she must fledge
on the shear cliff edge,
for the hares she’s killed
among dunes and sedge
for leverets that cried abed,
mewling for the jill that’s dead.
A single tear falls.

And again she calls,
rising fast
to strike good air,
to kill once more
a hare
and shed perhaps one more tear.
Into a sea of tears

On the headland a woman stands,
captains cap in aging hands
and in her heart the weight of
living years,
as to the sea she gifts her tears
for him that’s lost and never found,
a husband loved and drowned.

She leads a boy by the hand,
before the sea they stand
he too will go
to spend his years
and she will shed again more tears.

An old man walks by evening tide,
hand stretches out by his side,
for she who has been so long there,
finding now only air
not the comfort of a hand,
that wears a matching wedding band.

And so his tears fall onto the shore
and join there forevermore
with an ocean of brine,
salty from the ages of crying
for the loved
and the bereaved,
for those missed
and those grieved.
An unending stream of tears
that washes down and down
across the count of countless years.

© Dave Kavanagh @ daithiocaomanaigh.com

3 thoughts on “Why the sea is Salty

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