Classic Poem

The wind-blown foam of the wave scatters
Back to the deep water and is tossed again.
The moving form repeats and changes
Endlessly, is different and yet the same.
Rock bears a carved and widening crevice
Where the shifting ice has lain.

Cycle of curved wing meeting water,
Day turning under the night's long dark upswing,
Pulse of geyser from the earth center—
There is an assurance in this deep rhythm
Of return and pattern, an assurance
Proud as the returning spring.