Rocking on a chair

The bay is still. The tide has seen the day

rock in the lap of the sea today.

It has rolled away. The sounds of the surge, the froth at the tip of the wave

are quietly moving inside the rocky groove. .

By their absence I feel

the dark army of the clouds

marching in with a storm in their belly.

By their absence I feel them all,

the tide and its waves within the sea,

the gulls riding above the crest

of the tide now sleeping to rest its wings of frothy waves.

The wrathful dance saw its end;

the tide has rolled away.

A time for the reckoning of unnamed joys and unaccounted sorrows.

Sushama Karnik.