The Swelling Tide
by Mark Lipman

The tide’s coming in
in wave after wave
it’s moving forward
occupying the beaches
claiming for its own
what belongs to the sea
with steady progress, it advances
fluctuating only to its own rhythm
keeping time with the pace of the day
receding only to return
reclaiming another inch
another mile
with the force of all that
watery mass behind it
seemingly invisible
yet right before our eyes
echelons of waves await their turn
to crest upon the shoreline
driven by the endless winds
of hope and freedom
that have circled the earth
and whispered in every ear
since the beginning of time
swelling its force
to the size of a tsunami
overthrowing the established order
of ownership and capital
returning to the earth
what is rightfully its own
pulling down to the bottom of the sea
all those who’d pretend to be its master.

The undertow does not obey
those who would wish to control it
it simply follows its own truth
that no matter how much one tries
you can no more handcuff water
than you can arrest an idea.

Like you, like I
the ocean has no master.



 

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