Spindrift sailed over the surface,
Content with catching a zephyr,
Or, playing tag with flying fish.
Ever so often a word or a prayer
Rose into the air and Spindrift
Caught it, held it, listened to it.
It did not understand the thought, but
It felt the hum of the expression,
It felt the warmth of urgency, and
Let it go to pass on it’s way.
Spindrift joyed in effervescent foam,
Bubbling, frolicking on wave crests,
There dancing, it pirouetted ,
Then sliding down the wave,
Skating across the rolling trough.
Gently, its father, the wind,
Would reach into the swell
Again, setting Spindrift on the crest,
Its brother and sister Spindrifts
Spewed sparkling drops of sea water,
Greeting each other with diamonds of light.
The magic of the moment was so grand,
So brief, so unpredictable, so capricious,
Spindrift did not mind disappearing,
Did not mind what it could not mind,
Nor, did it sense passing, or ceasing,
It was a part of the whole of the sea,
A greater fanciful delight of Nature,
And like all other whimsies,
It had no meaning other than to be.
Copyright: 2009, Donald Harbour
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