Waves

Waves are rolling over me,
Rippling tides of blue,
They wash away the sorrows and
Say things we never knew.

They say we're all so shallow,
like a hostile, sand-filled bay;
I never knew the sea foam occupied
itself with gossiping,

When waves rise high like horses
rearing, pawing at the sky,
they see our concrete wonders boasting,
then crash down with a sigh,

Shards of glass and littered plastic
drift like snowflakes to the depths;
they don't shimmer so brightly now
passing creatures that luminesce,

I haven't met with seashore tides
as days, weeks, months slowly passed by.
But I remember our goodbye:

Ripples dancing on the beach sorrowfully,
Not caring to tease the land
and travel further up the sand, 
but swirling, thinking, wondering why
one creature had such big, big dreams,
demanding its sacrifice so easily

if the ocean could cry,
we'd swim in her grief--
but she can't, can she?

so the sky cried for her.