The waves don’t wait,

They roll and crest and make a foamy, blue-green mess.

Nonstop they don’t stop,

They don’t tire like a spinning top;

The waves are restless and relentless as they come from a vastness that seems so endless-

But in my dreams I have seen the other side of the sea,

And there I know it gleams,

There instead the ocean softly sings as it brings forth just a gentle breeze,

And instead of never-ending empty noise drowning out your pleas,

Caving in on you and crushing you,

Everything just feels free.

So there, I know it, I can feel it, is where she waits for me-

On the other side of the Atlantic.

Between us lies thousands of miles of the sea that’s so frantic,

Yet I feel calm,

I feel like I can go on.

Because when I look into the horizon from my raging shore and she looks from hers,

42 degrees North latitude piercing our hearts for better or for worse.

I can feel our eyes lock;

For a moment Poseidon ceases to bang his head against the rock,

For a moment the blanket of black carbon hanging over me gives way to a garden,

And my undying faith in her is all I need:

It doesn’t matter if she’s even real or if there really is an end to the endless sea,

All that matters is that I believe,

For I don’t know how people can just blindly walk through life looking down at their feet,

Immune to the recession of their soul as it quietly bleeds,

Not having a grand vision of where it all might lead.

All I need to go on are her eternal crystal eyes and half-smiling lips,

And the relentless waves of time; the waves that don’t wait,

Seem to decline and eclipse.