Meditation and Yoga

The grey sea creeps half-visible, half-hushed,

And grasps with its innumerable hands

These silent walls. I see beyond a rough

Glimmering infinity, I feel the wash

And hear the sibilation of the waves

That whisper to each other as they push

To shoreward side by side, --long lines and dim

Of movement flecked with quivering spots of foam,

The quiet welter of a shifting world.


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